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PRINCETON,  N.  J.  & 


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Section . • i5.  r.  l7.  


Number , 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/ondesertwithbrieOOfiel 


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the  Hed  Sou 


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Urff'Shomer/ 

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DUlanrc  from  the  Well*  of  Boses  to  the  Content  153  Bile*. 
Ciunel’s  Journey  a tiny  20  to25  Biles. 

Route  - Camps  X 


Ras  Mohammed  ^ 
ME  n SEA 


ON  THE  DESERT 


WITH  A BRIEF  REVIEW  OF 


RECENT  EVENTS  IN  EGYPT. 


✓ 

BY  HENRY  M.  FIELD,  D.D. 

AUTHOR  or  “FROM  THE  LAKES  OF  KILLARNEY  TO  THE  GOLDEN  HORN,” 
AND  “FROM  EGYPT  TO  JAPAN.” 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 
1883 


Copyright,  1883,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


2To  CKcorge  35.  $ost  JH.  3S 


PROFESSOR  OF  SURGERY  AND  BOTANY 
IN  THE  SYRIAN  PROTESTANT  COLLEGE  AT  BEIRUT, 

Companion  on  tfje  JBesert, 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED  THIS  STORY 
OF  OUR  WANDERINGS  TOGETHER. 


CONTENTS 


.w  • xj  * 

# 


I.  Egypt  in  the  Spbing  op  1882 1 

II.  England  in  Egypt 22 

III.  The  Fiest  Day  on  the  Deseet 38 

IY.  Maeah,  Elim  and  the  Camp  by  the  Bed  Sea 55 

Y.  Oue  Bedaween  Companions 65 

YI.  A Sabbath  in  the  Wildeeness 78 

VII.  The  Ascent  op  Mount  Seebal 87 

VIII.  Coming  to  the  Foot  op  Sinai 98 

IX.  On  the  Top  op  Mount  Sinai 109 

X.  The  Hebbew  Commonwealth  pounded  on  Religion 121 

XI.  Theoceacy  and  Democeacy 138 

XII.  The  Ceiminal  Law— was  it  weitten  in  Blood  ? 156 

XIII.  Lipe  in  a Convent 172 

XIY.  Leaving  Sinai.  Passing  Theough  the  Mountains 188 

XV.  The  Geeat  and  Teeeible  Wildeeness 203 

XVI.  Nukhl— on  the  Route  of  Pilgeims  to  Mecca 218 

XVII.  The  Old  Sheikh.  Illness  on  the  Deseet 232 

XVIII.  Pekils  Among  Robbees 248 

XIX.  Retukning  to  Civilization 262 

XX.  The  Moslems  of  Gaza— A Beave  Missionaey 273 

XXI.  Theough  the  Hill  Countey  to  Bethlehem 283 

XXII.  Abound  the  Place  wheee  Cheist  was  Boen 291 

XXIII.  The  Dead  Sea  and  the  Joedan.  Jeeicho 306 

XXIV.  Going  up  to  Jeeusalem 319 


PREFACE. 


Tlie  Peninsula  of  Sinai  has  been  a favorite  ground  of 
Biblical  explorers.  In  their  zeal  to  visit  scenes  made  dear 
by  connection  with  sacred  history,  they  have  sought  to 
follow  the  track  of  the  children  of  Israel  from  the  time  of 
their  departure  out  of  Egypt  ; to  trace  their  marches  on 
the  desert  ; and  to  fix  the  place  of  their  encampments,  not 
only  around  the  base  of  Sinai,  but  even  when  wandering 
and  almost  lost  in  the  Great  and  Terrible  Wilderness. 
The  fruit  of  these  researches  is  a Library  of  Exploration, 
which  forms  a most  valuable  addition  to  our  Biblical 
Literature,  not  only  for  the  knowledge  it  gives  of  sacred 
geography,  but  of  the  whole  religious,  social,  and  political 
economy  of  the  Hebrews. 

While  these  great  works,  the  monuments  of  so  much 
learning,  occupy  the  attention  of  scholars,  other  readers 
may  be  interested  in  turning  over  a Portfolio  of  Sketches, 
which  claims  only  to  present  a few  Pictures  of  the  Desert. 
The  Peninsula  is  as  unique  in  its  scenery  as  in  its  history — 
combining  the  three  great  features  of  the  desert,  the  moun- 
tains and  the  sea  ; the  sands,  the  cliffs,  and  the  rolling  wa- 
ters— all  which  have  a peculiar  fascination  when  seen  in  a 
pure,  transparent  atmosphere,  with  the  lights  and  shadows 
of  sunrisings  and  sunsettings.  Passing  through  such  a 
country,  not  as  an  explorer,  but  only  as  a traveller,  the 
writer  has  been  content  to  accept  what  came  within  his 
personal  observation,  and  to  describe  only  what  he  could 


11. 


PREFACE. 


see  with  his  own  eyes.  The  notes  which  are  here  written 
out  were  all  taken  on  the  spot,  often  in  the  most  difficult 
circumstances — in  the  tent  at  the  close  of  day,  when  wea- 
ried with  a long  march  ; or  at  noon,  resting  under  a cliff, 
in  “ the  shadow  of  a great  rock  in  a weary  land  on  the 
shore  of  the  sea,  or  on  the  tops  of  mountains.  Sometimes, 
as  he  passed  over  a point  of  view  which  commanded  a wide 
sweep  of  the  horizon,  he  could  only  rein  in  his  camel,  and 
sketch  the  scene  from  the  saddle.  Pictures  thus  taken,  if 
they  have  no  other  merit,  may  have  that  of  a literal  fidel- 
ity, and  imperfect  as  they  are,  may  perhaps  impart  a little 
of  the  glow  of  enthusiasm  which  the  scenes  themselves 
enkindled  in  him  who  attempts  to  describe  them,  and  thus 
lead  some  to  follow  in  his  steps  ; while  to  others  he  would 
hope  that  these  lighter  sketches  may  serve  as  an  introduc- 
tion to  those  great  works,  which  are  not  only  of  absorbing 
interest,  but  rich  in  learning  and  instruction. 

Once  only  in  the  following  pages  is  the  simple  narra- 
tive— the  detail  of  incidents  of  tent-life,  of  the  camp  and 
the  march,  or  the  description  of  scenes  on  the  mountain 
and  the  desert — interrupted  to  introduce  a defence  of  the 
Hebrew  Law.  This  may  be  thought  quite  unnecessary. 
But  it  has  become  such  a fashion  of  the  day  to  question, 
not  only  the  inspiration  of  Moses,  but  his  wisdom  as  a 
Lawgiver,  and  even  his  humanity,  that  one  who  was  loyal 
to  that  great  name  could  hardly  refrain  from  some  reflec- 
tions which  naturally  arose  under  the  cliffs  of  Sinai. 


ON  THE  DESERT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OP  1882. 

Tlie  war  had  not  yet  come.  For  months  there  had 
been  rumors  of  trouble  in  Egypt  ; the  English  papers 
were  full  of  accounts  of  tumult  and  disorder ; there  had 
been  a military  revolution ; troops  had  surrounded  the 
Palace  of  the  Khedive,  and  compelled  a change  of  Minis- 
try; all  power  was  in  the  hands  of  the  army;  constitu- 
tional authority  was  destroyed,  and  the  country  was  drift- 
ing into  anarchy.  Such  reports  created  a feeling  of  alarm 
in  Europe,  and  many  travellers  who  had  proposed  to  spend 
a Winter  on  the  Nile,  remained  in  the  South  of  France,  or 
in  Italy.  I left  Naples  with  some  apprehension,  but  as  we 
approached  Alexandria  on  the  morning  of  the  IGth  of  Feb- 
ruary, the  sun  rose  on  the  same  scene  as  when  we  had 
landed  there  from  Constantinople  six  years  before.  There 
was  no  sign  of  warlike  preparation.  Everything  had  the 
look  of  peace  and  of  commercial  prosperity.  The  ships 
that  crowded  the  harbor  showed  that  we  were  entering  the 
great  maritime  city  of  the  East,  while  there  was  a faint 
revival  of  the  ancient  splendor  in  the  palaces  on  the  shore. 
In  all  this  there  was  nothing  to  give  token  of  a city  that 
in  four  short  months  was  to  be  the  scene  of  a fearful  mas- 


2 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


sacre ; and  tliat  one  month  later  was  to  he  devoted  to 
destruction. 

For  the  present  there  was  nothing  to  excite  appre- 
hension. I landed  at  Alexandria  with  no  worse  fate  than 
that  of  being  pulled  this  way  and  that,  as  every  traveller 
is,  by  the  Arab  boatmen,  anxious  for  the  honor  of  carrying 
his  baggage  and  receiving  his  money ; and  drove  to  the 
Hotel  de  l’Europe  on  the  Place  Mehemet  Ali,  which  was  the 
scene  of  the  massacre  on  the  11th  of  June ; and  proceeded 
to  Cairo  without  incident,  stopping  at  Tantah  by  the  way, 
where  four  months  later  foreigners  were  dragged  out  of 
trains  and  butchered  in  cold  blood.  But  as  yet  all  was 
quiet,  and  when  I found  myself  once  more  in  Cairo,  in  my 
old  quarters  at  the  Grand  New  Hotel,  where  I had  been  six 
years  before,  sitting  on  the  same  balcony  overlooking  the 
Ezbekieh  Square,  and  listening  to  the  same  music  floating  up 
from  under  the  palm  trees  below,  I felt  as  if  I were  at  home, 
and  gave  myself  up  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  most  delight- 
ful of  Eastern  cities.  For  a Winter’s  residence,  there  is  no- 
thing to  equal  Cairo.  The  flood  of  light,  which  gives  bright- 
ness and  color  to  everything  ; the  soft  and  balmy  air,  which 
it  i3  a luxury  to  breathe  ; the  palms,  with  their  tall  trunks 
and  tufted  crowns  ; the  old  mosques,  with  their  minarets, 
from  which  the  muezzin  calls  the  faithful  to  prayer  ; the 
endless  bazaars,  with  long-bearded  Orientals  sitting  at  the 
place  of  custom  ; the  picturesque  sights  of  the  streets,  with 
dashing  carriages,  and  lithe  and  springy  syces,  dressed  in 
white,  with  red  girdles  and  velvet  caps,  running  before 
them,  as  they  ran  before  the  chariot  of  Pharaoh  ; and  the 
long  processions  of  camels,  making  such  a contrast  with  the 
donkeys,  waddling  under  the  weight  of  fat,  turbaned  Turks, 
or  of  women,  sitting  astride  and  covered  in  black  from 
head  to  foot,  with  only  a pair  of  eyes  peering  out  from 
faces  thickly  veiled  ; or  ambling  along,  with  English  riders 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


3 


on  their  backs,  and  the  donkey  boys,  now  belaboring  the 
little  beasts,  and  now  helping  their  own  slow  steps  by  drag- 
ging at  their  tails — all  these  make  a variety  and  change 
of  which  one  never  wearies. 

Of  course,  however  short  one’s  visit  to  Cairo,  and  how- 
ever often  he  has  been  there  before,  he  must  ride  out  to 
the  Pyramids,  to  look  again  with  awe  and  wonder  at  those 
mighty  monuments  of  the  past  ; and  to  Heliopolis,  to  see 
the  oldest  obelisk  in  Egypt,  still  standing,  as  it  stood  four 
thousand  years  ago  in  front  of  the  Temple  of  the  Sun. 
where  Joseph  saw  it  when  he  married  the  daughter  of  the 
priest  of  On  ; and  where  Plato  studied  philosophy,  as  Moses 
had  studied  before  him,  and  became,  like  him,  “learned  in 
all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians.” 

To  its  attractions  in  the  way  of  antiquities,  Cairo  has 
recently  had  a great  addition  in  the  royal  mummies  lately 
discovered  at  Thebes,  which  have  been  brought  down  the 
Nile,  and  placed  in  the  Museum  at  Boulak,  which  I visited 
with  Dr.  Grant,  who  is  an  authority  as  an  Egyptologist. 
If  it  is  an  honor  to  stand  before  kings,  even  dead  kings,  I 
had  it  to  the  full  that  day.  There  I saw  the  open  sarcopha- 
gus which  holds  the  mummied  body  of  Raineses  II.,  whose 
daughter  took  Moses  out  of  the  bulrushes.  Dr.  Grant  has 
in  his  private  collection  a ring,  of  which  he  has  good  reason 
to  believe  that  it  once  adorned  the  finger  of  Menephtah, 
the  son  and  successor  of  Raineses,  and  the  very  Pharaoh  of 
the  Exodus. 

Not  less  interesting  to  me,  in  a different  way,  was  a 
visit  to  Dr.  Schweinfurth,  the  distinguished  African  trav- 
eller, who  makes  his  home  in  Cairo,  as  the  most  conven- 
ient point  Rom  which  to  make  his  journeys  into  the  inte- 
rior of  Africa.  Here  he  has  gathered  his  great  collections 
of  plants  ; his  walls  are  lined  with  charts  and  maps,  on 
which  he  kindly  traced  for  me  the  outlines  of  his  ex- 


4 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


plorations.  I listened  with  amazement  at  the  simple  story. 
For  thousands  and  thousands  of  miles,  he  made  his  way 
through  swamp  and  jungle  and  forest,  across  deserts 
and  over  mountains.  “And  how  did  you  travel  ? ” I 
asked.  “On  foot.”  “With  whom?”  “Alone!”  There  is 
nothing  in  all  the  history  of  exploration  more  touching 
than  the  story  of  the  loss  of  his  treasures.  When  he  had 
travelled  more  than  two  years,  and  amassed  a collection 
of  priceless  value,  it  was  destroyed  in  an  hour  by  the  burn- 
ing of  an  African  village.  Then  indeed  he  feared  that  his 
reason  might  give  way.  To  keep  his  mind  in  action,  he 
began  keeping  a record  of  his  own  footsteps  along  his  lonely 
and  dreary  march,  and  in  six  months  made  an  actual  count 
of  a million  and  a quarter  of  steps ! Thus  he  got  his  mind 
away  from  brooding  on  his  loss,  and  his  brain  into  some 
sort  of  regular  action.  After  this,  who  shall  say  that  cour- 
age of  the  highest  kind  has  died  out  from  among  men,  or 
that  even  this  sordid  and  selfish  age  of  ours  cannot  produce 
heroes  equal  to  any  found  in  story  ? He  reckons  the  Nile 
to  be  the  longest  river  in  the  world,  but  in  the  measurement 
he  includes,  as  a part  of  the  great  river  of  Egypt,  certain 
affluents  of  the  lakes  out  of  which  it  flows  : apart  from  which 
it  might  not  equal  either  the  Amazon  or  the  Mississippi. 

There  was  another  man  whom  it  was  a pleasure  to  see 
walking  about  the  streets  of  Cairo — M.  de  Lesseps.  He 
was  generally  leading  a child  by  the  hand,  one  of  his  sec- 
ond family,  the  children  of  his  old  age.  I had  met  him  in 
America,  and  he  received  me  very  cordially.  To  my  in- 
quiry as  to  the  comparative  difficulties  of  the  two  great 
Interoceanic  Canals  with  which  his  name  is  connected,  he  1 
answered  without  hesitation,  that  the  difficulties  of  Suez 
were  far  greater  than  of  Panama.  The  former  was  built 
in  the  desert : there  were  no  means  of  transportation  ex- 
cept the  backs  of  camels,  until  new  approaches  were  con- 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


5 


structed  ; new  implements  of  engineering  had  to  be  cre- 
ated for  the  unaccustomed  task  ; even  to  the  end  a large 
part  of  the  excavations  had  to  be  made  by  the  fellaheen 
taking  up  the  sand  or  the  slime  in  baskets,  and  carrying  it 
away  on  the  top  of  their  heads ! But  at  Panama  a rail- 
road is  already  built  across  the  mountains,  which  can  trans- 
port men  and  materials  to  any  point.  The  old  man  ex- 
pressed himself  as  entirely  satisfied  with  the  progress  of 
the  work,  and  spoke  with  absolute  assurance  of  its  complete 
success  ; he  was  going  out  to  America  the  next  year  to  see 
how  far  it  was  advanced,  although  he  was  nearly  eighty 
years  of  age,  and  had  not  a doubt  that  he  should  live  to 
see  the  waters  of  the  two  oceans  flowing  together.  With 
such  a man  it  seems  indeed  as  if  all  ordinary  rules  were 
reversed  ; as  if  the  obstacles  of  time  and  nature,  which 
daunt  and  defeat  less  ardent  spirits,  were  made  to  bend  to 
his  unconquerable  will. 

Cairo  has  many  social  attractions  in  the  resident  Euro- 
pean families,  and  in  strangers  that  come  here  for  the 
Winter.  The  American  colony  is  not  large,  but  it  is  very 
pleasant.  There  are  no  more  charming  interiors  anywhere 
than  in  the  hospitable  homes  of  General  Stone  and  Judge 
Batcheller.  Br.  Grant,  the  Scotch  physician,  is  married  to 
an  American  lady,  who  is  well  known  for  her  kindness  to 
strangers  and  her  charities  to  the  poor  ; she  is  now  greatly 
interested  in  the  establishment  of  a hospital,  like  that 
at  Beirut,  under  the  charge  of  those  Protestant  Sisters 
of  Charity,  the  Deaconesses  of  Kaiserswerth.  The  Ameri- 
can missionaries,  in  their  new  building  on  the  Ezbekieh 
Square,  which  includes  their  chapel  and  their  schools,  are 
working  quietly  but  faithfully  to  diffuse  those  elements  of 
knowledge  and  of  Christian  faith  which  are  the  germ  of 
true  civilization.  In  all  these  families  an  American  is  sure 
to  find  a hospitable  welcome. 


6 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


But  into  whatever  circle  I went,  I found  that  the  one 
absorbing  topic  was  the  political  state  of  Egypt.  Since  I 
was  here  six  years  ago,  on  my  way  round  the  world,  great 
changes  had  taken  place.  Ismail  the  Magnificent  was  gone, 
and  Tewfik,  his  son,  reigned  in  his  stead.  To  give  the 
details  of  these  changes  would  be  a long  story.  A very 
brief  review  is  sufficient  to  render  intelligible  the  course 
of  events,  which  at  last  has  culminated  in  war. 

If  wa  go  back  to  the  origin  of  the  troubles  in  Egypt,  we 
shall  find  that  what  the  country  is  suffering  to-day  is  a bit- 
ter inheritance  from  the  past.  The  misgovernment  of 
Ismail  Pacha  prepared  the  way  for  the  difficulties  and  em- 
barrassments of  his  son,  as  the  excesses  of  Louis  XIV.  and 
Louis  XV.  prepared  the  way  for  the  French  Kevolution. 

But  let  us  not  be  unjust  even  to  Ismail  Pacha.  He  was 
a man  of  great  ability,  and  he  rendered  services  to  Egypt 
which  should  never  be  forgotten.  But  for  him  we  should 
not  have  the  Suez  Canal  ; at  least  his  share  in  it  was  as 
important  as  that  of  M.  de  Lesseps  himself  : for  while  the 
latter  furnished  the  engineering  skill,  the  former  furnished 
the  labor  ; and  if  the  capital  came  chiefly  from  Paris,  yet 
no  small  part  came  from  Cairo.  One-quarter  of  all  that 
the  Khedive  received  through  his  foreign  loans,  it  is  esti- 
mated, went  into  the  construction  of  the  Suez  Canal,  and 
thus  was  paid  towards  a work  which  was  really  of  far  more 
benefit  to  England  than  to  Egypt.  The  Khedive  had  a 
noble  ambition  for  his  country,  which  he  wished  to  take 
rank  among  the  great  powers  bordering  on  the  Mediterra- 
nean. He  had  vast  schemes  of  national  grandeur.  To 
restore  the  ancient  commerce  of  Alexandria,  he  spent  great 
sums  in  enlarging  its  harbor  ; he  built  here  and  at  ~PoA 
Said  long  breakwaters  against  the  sea,  and  piers  and 
docks  and  wharves  ; he  had  steamers  crossing  the  Medi- 
terranean and  on  the  Bed  Sea ; to  revive  agriculture,  he 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


7 


dug  canals  for  irrigation  to  carry  tlie  “ sweet  water  ” of 
the  Nile  to  every  part  of  the  Delta  ; he  encouraged  the 
raising  of  cotton  and  of  sugar  ; while  his  railroads  cross- 
ing the  country,  with  trains  of  cars  taking  the  place  of 
caravans  of  camels,  gave  to  ancient  Egypt,  with  its  tem- 
ples and  its  Pyramids,  the  aspect  of  modern  civilization. 
Ismail  is  no  longer  ruler  of  Egypt,  hut  these  works  remain, 
the  enduring  monuments  of  his  services  to  his  country. 

Could  he  but  have  stopped  here,  he  would  have  had  a 
place  in  history  as  one  of  the  greatest  rulers  of  his  time. 
But  when  could  an  Oriental  prince  or  potentate  be  content 
with  labors  for  the  public  good  ? He  must  needs  also  sur- 
round himself  with  magnificence  and  splendor.  And  so 
Ismail  began  building  palaces  with  the  same  recklessness 
of  cost  with  which  Louis  XIV.  began  building  Versailles, 
only  that  he  had  not  the  wealth  of  France  behind  him. 

It  has  been  my  fortune,  or  misfortune,  to  witness  the 
financial  collapse  of  both  Turkey  and  Egypt.  I was  in 
Constantinople  in  the  Autumn  of  1875,  just  after  Turkey 
had  announced  to  Europe  that  she  could  no  longer  pay  the 
interest  on  her  bonds.  The  wild  extravagance  of  the  Sul- 
tan, wasting  untold  sums  in  building  palaces,  and  keeping 
up  his  enormous  domestic  establishment,  could  have  but 
one  issue.  To  be  sure,  he  paid  as  long  as  he  could — that 
is,  as  long  as  he  could  make  new  debts  to  pay  old  ones,  or 
even  borrow  enough  to  pay  the  interest.  But  a time  came 
when  the  bankers  of  London  and  Paris  and  Amsterdam 
were  no  longer  willing  to  throw  their  millions  into  the 
Bosphorus,  and  then  “there  was  quickly  an  end.” 

The  disaster  to  Turkey  was  naturally  followed  by  that 
of  Egypt.  The  credit  of  both  rested  on  the  same  hollow 
foundation.  Hardly  had  we  crossed  the  Mediterranean 
before  we  saw  the  same  ruin  impending  in  Cairo  that  had 
already  come  in  Constantinople.  A long  career  of  extrav- 


8 


EU-YPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


aganee,  exhausting  tlie  resources  of  a country  that  was 
very  poor  to  begin  with,  had  brought  Egypt  to  the  verge 
of  bankruptcy.  The  crisis  was  delayed  for  a time  by  the 
purchase  of  the  shares  of  the  Khedive  in  the  Suez  Canal 
by  England  for  four  millions  sterling.  But  this  could  only 
postpone,  it  could  not  prevent,  the  inevitable  ruin. 

Seeing  the  shadow  on  the  wall,  Ismail  at  last  humbled 
himself  so  far  as  to  ask  advice,  and  applied  to  England  to 
send  out  to  Cairo  a man  skilled  in  finance  to  investigate 
his  affairs,  and  if  possible  restore  order  and  confidence. 
I was  in  Cano  at  the  moment  that  Mr.  Cave  appeared  on 
the  scene,  and  began  the  Herculean  task.  He  soon  found 
that  he  had  no  place  to  stand  on  ; that  he  was  sinking  in  a 
bottomless  abyss.  It  was  hard  to  find*  out  what  were  really 
the  debts  of  Egypt,  for  the  Khedive  had  an  ingenious  sys- 
tem of  bookkeeping — a kind  of  “double  entry” — by  which 
a large  part  of  what  came  into  the  treasury  went  into  his  own 
private  purse,  while  debts  that  were  incurred  were  charged 
to  the  State.  To  disentangle  this  confused  mass  of  accounts, 
seemed  almost  hopeless.  To  meet  these  debts,  resources 
of  every  kind  were  gone  ; the  Khedive  had  taxed  the  coun- 
try till  it  could  bear  no  more  ; he  had  wrested  everything 
from  his  miserable  people  ; and  thus  at  the  same  moment 
had  exhausted  his  resources  at  home  and  his  power  of  bor- 
rowing abroad. 

It  were  useless  and  sickening  to  follow  this  steady  de- 
scent from  one  depth  to  another  lower  still.  It  is  enough  to 
recognize  the  peculiar  and  extraordinary  circumstances  out 
of  which  rose  the  Anglo-French  Control,  of  which  we  have 
heard  so  much.  This  was  an  arrangement  by  which  the 
finances  of  the  country  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  French 
and  English  Controllers,  who  were  to  collect  the  taxes  and 
pay  the  interest  on  the  debt.  This  has  been  very  severely 
criticized.  I confess  I do  not  like  it  either  in  principle  or  in 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


9 


practice.  Partnership  in  business  may  be  a "wise  manage- 
ment of  affairs,  but  partnership  in  government  does  not 
work  so  well.  An  alliance  of  two  countries  which  join  to 
control  a third,  is  a sort  of  double-headed  monster,  which 
has  no  more  place  in  government  than  in  nature.  Nature 
abhors  monsters,  and  so  does  wise  diplomacy  or  legislation. 
Especially  a joint  action  between  two  countries  so  jealous 
of  each  other  as  France  and  England,  was  sure  to'  result 
sooner  or  later  in  misunderstanding  and  mischief. 

Besides,  there  was  an  injustice  in  the  thing  to  which  it  is 
very  hard  to  reconcile  our  American  ideas.  To  make  the 
best  of  it,  it  was  an  anomalous  arrangement — one  to  which 
neither  England  nor  France,  and  least  of  all  America,  would 
submit  for  an  instant.  Suppose,  because  English  bankers 
forty  years  ago  lent  money  on  Pennsylvania  bonds,  which 
did  not  prove  very  remunerative,  England  should  say 
“Now  we  will  come  in  and  administer  the  finances  of 
Pennsylvania  for  a few  years  ’until  our  bondholders  are 
paid  in  full,  principal  and  interest,  with  a liberal  commis- 
sion for  collecting  bad  debts,  and  after  that  we  will  give  the 
control  back  to  you,”  she  would  receive  an  answer  that 
would  be  quite  intelligible.  This  is  the  charge  that  is 
made  against  England  : that  she  has  used  all  the  weight  of 
her  national  authority  to  collect  debts,  and  not  even  debts 
owed  to  herself,  but  to  private  capitalists,  to  speculators, 
who  if  they  lend  money  to  a State  like  Egypt  at  enormous 
interest,  ought  at  least  to  take  their  own  risks,  and  not  come 
to  the  Government  to  help  them  out  of  a bad  bargain,  for 
which  they  have  nobody  to  blame  but  themselves. 

But  I do  not  quite  understand  the  matter  so,  nor  that 
the  Anglo-French  Control  was  imposed  upon  Egypt  by 
foreign  power  without  her  consent  and  against  her  will. 
It  was  Ismail  Pacha  who  invited  the  help  of  England  and 
France  to  get  him  out  of  his  financial  difficulties.  He  had 


10 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


got  to  the  end  of  his  rope.  Nobody  would  lend  him  a 
shilling.  Then  it  was  that  England  and  France  said  “We 
will  try  to  raise  you  up  and  set  you  on  your  legs  again,  if 
you  will  let  us  manage  the  finances.  Europe  will  have  con- 
fidence in  us,  but  it  will  not  in  you.”  This  was  a pretty  hard  - 
bargain,  but  it  was  the  only  one  that  could  be  made  ; and 
bad  as  it  was  in  principle,  yet  anything  was  better  than  levy- 
ing taxes  (and  double  taxes)  by  the  bastinado.  The  change 
brought  immediate  relief  ; the  country  began  to  revive. 
The  burden  of  taxation  was  still  heavy,  but  at  least  the  peo- 
ple knew  what  to  depend  upon  : that  they  were  only  to  be 
taxed  once  a year,  and  the  taxes  to  be  collected  at  a regular 
time,  and  in  a regular  way.  There  were  no  more  bastinado- 
ings  to  extort  money.  Confidence  returned  ; Egyptian  bonds 
rose  in  all  the  markets  of  Europe.  But  the  Control  had  to 
deal  not  only  with  an  impoverished  country,  but  with  an 
imperious  and  intractable  master.  Ismail  was  quite  will- 
ing that  they  should  come  in  to  relieve  him  from  embar- 
rassment, and  to  put  such  a plausible  show  on  his  affairs  as 
should  enable  him  to  borrow  more  money  ; but  he  had  no 
idea  of  their  placing  a check  on  his  extravagance  ; and  so, 
after  chafing  for  awhile  under  the  restraint,  he  finally  flew 
into  a passion,  and  told  the  Controllers  to  go  about  their 
business,  and  he  would  manage  the  finances  himself,  upon 
which  they  appealed  to  their  Governments,  who  addressed 
themselves  to  the  Sultan,  who  joohtely  told  the  Khedive  to 
go  about  his  business,  who  thereupon  embarked  with  his 
harem  for  Naples,  where  for  three  years  he  has  had  abun- 
dant leisure  to  contemplate  the  situation. 

That,  in  short,  is  the  whole  story  of  the  Anglo-French 
Control.  It  was  certainly  an  awkward  arrangement,  but 
still,  as  a temporary  expedient,  it  did  immense  good.  But 
like  many  other  good  things,  it  ran  into  an  abuse.  The 
Egyptians  felt  that  it  was  pretty  hard  to  have  to  pay 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


11 


interest  on  a debt  of  nearly  a hundred  millions  sterling, 
contracted  at  an  enormous  discount,  of  which  the  country 
had  received  probably  not  more  than  fifty  per  cent. 

But  this  was  not  all.  The  Controllers,  finding  that  they 
had  what  some  would  call  “ a fat  place,”  imported  a swarm 
of  foreign  officials,  to  whom  they  gave  the  other  “fat” 
places  in  the  financial  administration.  No  sooner  was  it 
fairly  established  in  power,  than  it  virtually  took  possession, 
not  only  of  the  Control  of  the  Finances,  but  of  all  the  de- 
partments of  the  Government.  In  the  household  of  the 
Khedive  there  were  French  and  Italian  secretaries  and 
masters  of  ceremonies,  while  Englishmen  were  employed 
on  the  railways  and  in  the  postal  service.  There  was 
the  same  mingling  of  nations  in  the  departments  of  jus- 
tice and  of  the  interior ; in  the  army  and  in  the  police  ; 
in  the  arsenals  and  military  schools ; in  short,  every- 
where. A list  carefully  prepared  showed  that  there  were 
nearly  fourteen  hundred  foreign  officials  employed  in  one 
post  and  another  in  the  Egyptian  Government.  A large 
part  of  these  obtained  their  positions  by  the  removal  of 
native  officials,  who  in  many  cases  were  quite  as  well 
qualified  as  these  foreign  intruders.  General  Stone  said 
to  me,  “ Here  come  these  English  and  French  Controllers, 
who  have  not  only  taken  the  great  offices  to  themselves, 
with  enormous  salaries,  but  have  placed  under  them  a large 
number  of  foreign  subordinates.  As  one  illustration  of 
what  they  are  doing,  they  have  in  many  instances  removed 
the  Copts,  who  have  been  scribes  in  the  land  from  the  days 
of  Joseph,  and  who  were  the  best  men  to  be  found  for  the 
minor  posts  of  the  government,  to  do  the  work  of  special 
bureaus  in  the  different  departments,  and  filled  their  places 
with  Englishmen  imported  from  India — ‘old  Indians’ — 
who  have  been  worn  out  in  that  country,  and  now  find 
Egypt  a new  field  of  operations.  These  swarm  upon  us 


12 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


like  a plague  of  locusts,  and  eat  out  the  substance  of  the 
land.  No  wonder  that  intelligent  Egyptians  are  indig- 
nant.” This  testimony  might  be  received  with  some  abate- 
ment, because  General  Stone  had  been  for  years  the  Chief 
of  Staff  to  the  Khedive,  and  his  sympathies  were  strongly 
with  the  Egyptians.  But  similar  language  was  used  by 
the  American  Consul  and  by  all  the  American  residents 
with  whom  I conversed.  They  felt  that  this  virtual  appro- 
priation of  the  government  by  foreign  Controllers,  was  a 
gross  abuse  of  trust ; that  it  was  a “ spoiling  of  the  Egyp- 
tians,” which  they  could  only  regard  with  disgust  and  in- 
dignation. 

Certainly  it  was  a great  injustice  ; but  let  the  blame 
fall  where  it  belongs.  The  odium  has  been  thrown  upon 
England,  when  a careful  inquiry  shows  that  it  was  not  the 
English  but  the  French  who  took  the  lion’s  share  of  the 
spoils.  Not  long  since  a paper  was  presented  to  the  House 
of  Commons,  giving  an  accurate  report  of  the  number  of 
British  subjects  in  the  service  of  Egypt,  which,  to  the  sur- 
prise of  the  public,  showed  that  there  were  three  or  four 
times  as  many  Frenchmen  as  Englishmen.  Among  the 
foreign  officials  it  was  found  also  that  there  was  a large 
number  of  Italians,  besides  a libera!  sprinkling  of  Germans, 
Roumanians,  Greeks,  and  Syrians. 

While  the  French  and  English  took  the  financial  posi- 
tions, the  Turks  took  the  high  places  in  the  army.  One 
cannot  understand  Egyptian  politics  without  recognizing 
the  fact  that  Arabs  are  not  Turks  ; indeed  no  two  peoples 
regard  each  other  with  more  intense  dislike.  They  may 
unite  to  fight  against  the  infidel ; but  left  to  themselves, 
they  would  fight  with  each  other,  as  they  did  in  the  days 
of  Mehemet  Ali.  And  yet  as  Egypt  is  subject  to  Turkey, 
all  the  best  places  in  its  army  have  been  held  by  aliens, 
whom  the  Egyptians  at  once  hate  and  despise.  The 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


13 


poor  fellaheen  furnished  the  rank  and  file,  hut  all  the  offi- 
cers were  Turks  or  Circassians.  Thus  the  Egyptians  were 
ground  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone. 
There  was  no  place  for  them  in  the  army  except  as  com- 
mon soldiers,  nor  in  any  department  of  the  Government. 
They  could  only  be  hewers  of  wood  or  drawers  of  water 
to  their  foreign  masters.  Out  of  this  double  or  triple 
grievance — this  Anglo-French-Turkish  oppression  — grew 
up  the  National  Party  of  Egypt  : a party  which  was  in- 
spired chiefly  by  jealousy  of  foreigners,  against  whom  it 
raised  the  rallying  cry  of  “ Egypt  for  the  Egyptians.” 

The  first  demonstration  that  brought  Arabi  Bey  to  the 
front  as  the  leader  of  the  National  or  military  party,  was  not 
against  the  English  or  the  French,  but  against  the  Turks. 
In  making  some  promotions  in  the  army,  the  Minister  of 
War,  who  was  himself  a Turk,  had  given  every  position  of 
importance  to  a Turk  or  a Circassian,  utterly  ignoring  the 
Arabs,  who  naturally  resented  this  public  degradation,  and 
against  which  Arabi,  who  was  then  but  a Bey  (a  Colonel), 
and  two  others  of  the  same  rank,  united  in  making  a re- 
spectful but  decided  protest.  For  this  remonstrance  they 
were  summoned  to  the  Ministry  of  War.  They  obeyed,  but 
suspecting  foul  play,  left  word  with  their  regiments,  if  they 
did  not  return  in  two  hours,  to  come  and  release  them  by 
force.  At  the  War  Office  they  were  immediately  placed 
under  arrest,  and  as  they  did  not  return,  their  regiments, 
true  to  the  command,  appeared  in  arms  and  broke  open  the 
doors,  and  drove  out  the  Minister  of  War,  releasing  their 
Colonels,  and  carrying  them  off  in  triumph.  The  Khedive, 
instead  of  punishing  them,  condoned  their  offence,  and 
showed  that  he  rather  sympathized  with  their  sense  of 
wrong,  by  dismissing  the  obnoxious  Minister. 

Of  course  a man  who  had  thus  bearded  the  lion  in  his 
den,  became  immensely  popular  with  the  army.  He  was 


14 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


regarded  as  the  champion  of  his  race.  But  his  success 
was  his  danger,  as  it  tempted  him  to  resort  on  all  occasions 
to  military  force.  The  next  demonstration  was  a more  for- 
midable one,  being  aimed  not  at  an  obnoxious  individual, 
but  at  the  whole  Ministry,  and  even  at  the  Khedive  himself. 
On  the  9th  of  September,  Arabi  appeared  at  the  head  of 
three  regiments  well  armed,  with  batteries  of  Krupp  guns, 
with  which  he  marched  to  the  Abdine  Palace  in  Cairo, 
around  which  the  troops  formed  with  loaded  cannon,  while 
Arabi  with  his  staff  rode  forward  to  the  presence  of  the 
Khedive,  who  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  Palace,  and  who  drew 
himself  up  with  an  appearance  of  calmness  and  courage, 
while  the  English  Controller,  who  stood  by  him,  leaned  over 
and  whispered  to  him  that  he  should  order  the  rebel  to  be 
shot ; but  as  the  Khedive  himself  would  have  been  blown 
to  atoms  in  an  instant,  and  his  English  adviser  with  him, 
he  prudently  refrained,  and  instead  asked  what  <the  army 
wanted.  Arabi  replied,  not  in  the  tone  of  one  who  offers 
a petition,  but  who  issues  an  order,  that  they  demanded 
three  things  : that  the  Ministry  should  be  dismissed  ; that 
the  pay  of  the  army  should  be  increased  ; and  that  an 
Egyptian  Parliament  should  be  summoned  to  prepare  a 
constitution  for  the  country.  The  Ministers,  who  were 
standing  by,  saw  the  hopelessness  of  resistance,  and  as- 
sented to  their  own  dismissal,  which  the  Khedive  accorded 
on  the  spot ; to  the  other  two  demands  he  could  not  as- 
sent without  referring  them  to  the  Sultan. 

The  result  was  a triumph  : the  main  point  had  been 
gained,  which  would  carry  the  others  with  it,  at  which 
Arabi  bowed,  the  military  saluted,  and  marched  off  the 
ground  with  bands  playing  in  all  the  exultation  of  victory. 
' In  all  these  proceedings  the  Americans  had  taken  no  part. 
They  had  no  share  in  the  Financial  Control,  and  had  neither 
interest  in,  nor  sympathy  with,  any  measures  which  seemed 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


15 


oppressive  or  unjust ; and  though  they  could  not  but  look 
upon  the  mode  of  redress  by  armed  force  as  a very  high- 
handed proceeding,  yet  they  sympathized  with  the  National 
party  to  this  extent,  that  they  thought  that  the  Egyptians 
were  very  hardly  treated ; that  they  had  been  crowded  to  the 
wall  ; and  that  the  course  of  France  and  England  towards 
Egypt,  had  not  been  worthy  of  two  powerful  nations 
dealing  with  a country  that  was  both  weak  and  poor. 
The  knowledge  of  this  sympathy,  which  was  openly  ex- 
pressed, made  our  countrymen  very  popular  in  Cairo  ; 
the  people  appreciated  their  friendly  feeling  ; they  knew 
that  we  had  not  meddled  in  their  affairs,  and  had  no 
part  in  the  oppressive  taxation  under  which  they  were 
suffering  ; and  we  were  often  entertained  by  hearing 
their  bands  strike  up  our  national  airs.  The  culmination 
of  this  era  of  good  feeling  was  at  a public  demonstration 
on  Washington’s  birthday,  which  our  Consul,  with  General 
Stone  and  some  Americans  passing  the  Winter  here,  thought 
it  would  be  a pleasant  thing  to  celebrate.  Accordingly 
they  got  up  a grand  dinner  at  our  Hotel,  to  which  they  in- 
vited all  the  Ministers  of  the  Khedive.  It  is  not  a com- 
mon thing  to  see  this  mingling  of  Arabs  and  Eiu’opeans, 
but  it  would  not  have  excited  remark  were  it  not  that  re- 
cent events-  led  many  to  regard  it  as  a political  demonstra- 
tion, and  indeed  some  who  were  in  official  positions  felt 
constrained  not  to  take  part  in  it  lest  their  action  might  be 
so  interpreted. 

However,  the  dinner  came  off,  and  proved  an  unique 
affair.  It  brought  together  a distinguished  company.  All 
the  Ministers  of  the  Khedive  were  present,  among  whom 
the  greatest  curiosity  was  manifested  to  see  Arabi  Bey,  the 
leader  in  the  recent  military  movement.  In  leading  the 
army  against  the  Government,  he  was  guilty  of  an  in- 
subordination, for  which,  had  Ismail  Pacha  been  still 


16 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


Khedive,  and  felt  strong  enough,  he  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  shot.  But  in  such  cases  the  character  of  the 
act  is  generally  judged  by  its  success,  and  as  Arabi  Bey 
had  the  army  at  his  back,  instead  of  being  executed,  he 
was  now  Minister  of  War  and  virtual  dictator  of  Egypt. 
I was  interested  to  see  a man  who  had  acted  such  a part, 
and  who  might  be  destined  either  to  supreme  power  or  to 
death,  and  observed  him  closely.  He  is  a man  of  large 
physique,  with  a face  that  is  not  at  all  intellectual,  but 
heavy,  except  his  eye,  which  looks  as  though  it  might  flash 
fire  if  he  were  once  aroused.  But  his  manner  was  very 
quiet,  and  his  few  words  when  I conversed  with  him  through 
an  interpreter,  were  such  as  might  be  uttered  by  any  patri- 
otic man.  He  said  he  had  come  out  that  evening,  though 
not  well,  to  do  honor  to  the  memory  of  a man  who  had 
freed  his  country  from  a foreign  yoke,  perhaps  thinking  in 
himself  that  what  Washington  had  done  for  America,  he 
might  do  for  Egypt. 

Besides  the  Americans  present,  there  were  a number  of 
Europeans,  whose  titles  and  decorations  showed  that  they 
were  men  of  high  position.  Of  these,  the  most  distin- 
guished was  M.  de  Lesseps,  who,  in  spite  of  his  ad- 
vanced age,  is  still  full  of  life  and  energy,  and  has  all  the 
ardor  and  the  hopefulness  of  youth. 

After  an  hour  of  pleasant  conversation,  the  company 
adjourned  to  the  large  dining-room,  which  had  been  deco- 
rated with  flags,  in  which  those  of  America  and  Egypt 
were  everywhere  conspicuous.  The  tables  were  loaded 
with  flowers.  During  the  whole  evening  the  band  of  the 
Khedive,  which  was  stationed  under  the  windows,  played 
American  airs.  The  Consul-General  presided,  having  on 
his  right  Mr.  William  Walter  Phelps,  our  Minister  to 
Vienna,  who  had  arrived  that  day  on  his  way  up  the  Nile, 
and  next  to  him  Mahmoud  Pacha,  the  Prime  Minister  of  the 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


17 


Khedive  ; and  on  the  other  side  the  Finance  Minister,  and 
next  to  him  Arabi  Bey,  now  Minister  of  War,  to  whom  I sat  | 
directly  opposite,  and  had  opportunity  to  observe  him  the 
whole  evening.  I was  struck  with  the  gravity  of  his  man- 
ner, which  was  serious  almost  to  sadness.  While  all  round 
the  tables  the  company  was  merry  and  gay,  he  sat  silent, 
as  one  absorbed  in  thought.  I do  not  think  he  smiled  the 
whole  evening.  Nor  did  he  take  a drop  of  wine.  While 
Europeans  and  Americans  were  drinking  freely,  his  glasses 
remained  untouched.  In  this,  as  in  his  prayers'*  and  fast- 
ings, he  is  a devout  Moslem,  and  conforms  to  the  strictest 
rules  of  his  religion.  Yet  there  was  nothing  sullen  in  his 
manner,  as  if  he  would  cast  a silent  reproach  on  the  pleas- 
ures which  he  could  not  enjoy.  On  the  contrary,  he  pre- 
served the  forms  of  Oriental  courtesy,  and  whenever  our 
eyes  met  across  the  table,  he  touched  his  breast  and  fore- 
head, as  if  by  this  token  he  would  give  me  the  kiss  of 
peace.  Such  was  the  man  who  was  soon  to  be  at  the  head 
of  Egypt,  not  only  of  the  army,  but  of  the  state — the 
leader  in  a war,  and  the  captive  of  England. 

Of  course  there  could  be  no  American  dinner  without 
toasts  and  speeches.  General  Stone  proposed  “ The  Mem- 
ory of  Washington,”  which  was  honored  as  usual  by  all 
rising  and  standing  in  silence.  Next  came  “ The  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,”  to  which  there  was  a response 
which,  reviewing  the  sad  events  of  the  year,  paid  a deserved 
tribute  to  our  martyred  President,  and  expressed  generous 
hopes  for  his  successor.  To  the  name  of  “ The  Khedive,” 
Mahmoud  Pacha  replied  in  Arabic.  One  of  the  Chamber 
of  Notables  also  spoke  in  the  same  language,  and  an  officer 
translated  his  words  into  French.  A distinguished  German 
editor,  Mr.  Sonnemann  of  Frankfort,  responded  for  “ The 
Press,”  eulogizing  the  Press  of  America  as  surpassing  in 
enterprise  and  independence  the  Press  of  Europe.  M.  de 


18 


EGYPT  IN'  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


Lesseps  was  called  up,  and  spoke,  of  course  in  liis  own 
language,  witli  a force  and  energy  that  awakened  great 
enthusiasm.  He  said  he  had  traversed  America  from  New 
York  to  San  Francisco,  and  had  visited  everywhere  the 
schools,  to  which  he  attached  the  greatest  importance, 
especially  to  the  schools  for  women,  which  he  said  were 
the  foundation  of  the  greatness  of  America.  This  was 
strange  language  to  be  spoken  in  the  presence  of  an  assem- 
bly of  Moslems ! All  the  expressions  of  feeling  were  in 
the  friendliest  spirit.  One  speaker  ended  with  this  rhetor- 
ical flourish,  in  which  the  compliments  were  pretty  evenly 
balanced  between  Egypt  and  America  : 

“ In  the  Centennial  Exhibition  in  Philadelphia  there  was 
a Department  assigned  to  Egypt,  over  which  was  written 
‘From  the  oldest  of  nations  to  the  youngest.’  That  greeting 
we  now  return,  presenting  the  best  wishes  of  the  youngest 
of  nations  to  the  oldest.  Americans  have  many  attractions 
to  Egypt.  Hundreds  of  our  people  come  here  every  Winter, 
to  enjoy  your  climate,  to  sail  up  the  Nile,  to  see  your  monu- 
ments, your  temples  and  pyramids.  How  can  we  but  wish 
well  to  a country  where  we  have  had  so  delightful,  though 
but  a temporary,  home  ? 

“ I see  before  me  distinguished  representatives  of  the  Arab 
race,  one  of  the  great  races  of  the  world,  which  has  played  a 
mighty  part  in  history — and  not  only  in  the  history  of  Asia 
and  Africa,  but  of  Europe  also,  for  scholars  cannot  forget 
that  there  was  a time  when  the  Arabs,  carrying  their  con- 
quests along  the  northern  shores  of  Africa,  crossed  into 
Spain,  where  they  remained  hundreds  of  years,  and  where 
they  founded  the  Universities  of  Seville  and  Cordova,  and 
were  the  masters  of  learning  for  Western  Europe.  A race 
which  has  had  such  a place  in  the  past,  surely  has  reason  to 
anticipate  a great  career  in  the  future. 

“ So  do  we  believe  in  the  continued  vitality  of  Egypt. 
Superficial  travellers  may  think  its  only  interest  is  from 
what  it  has  been  in  the  past,  from  its  pyramids,  its  tem- 
ples, and  its  tombs.  But  is  there  nothing  of  Egypt  but  its 
sepulchres  ? I see  around  me  a living  Egypt,  in  which  there 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


19 


are  elements  of  growth,  which  promise  to  restore  at  least  a 
portion  of  its  former  greatness.  That  all  this  may  be  real- 
ized, is  the  ardent  wish  of  America.  Across  the  world  of 
waters  that  rolls  between  us — across  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Mediterranean — she  sends  her  greeting  to  her  elder  sister  of 
the  Orient.  As  in  the  ages  past,  so  in  the  ages  to  come  may 
the  Nile,  rising  in  the  Highlands  of  Central  Africa,  continue 
to  pour  down  its  annual  flood,  spreading  over  the  land  of 
Egypt  fertility  and  abundance ; and  so  long  may  this  beau- 
tiful country  be  the  home  of  aprosperous  and  happy  people.  ” 

If  the  speaker  could  have  foreseen  the  events  of  the 
next  few  months,  he  might  have  been  less  sanguine  of  the 
future  of  the  Arab  race,  but  he  certainly  would  not  have 
abated  anything  of  his  good  wishes  for  Egypt. 

The  last  speech  was  by  Mr.  Phelps,  who  mingled  wis- 
dom and  wit  in  such  a way  as  put  everybody  in  the  happi- 
est mood,  and  the  company  broke  up  while  the  band  played 
Hail  Columbia  and  the  Star-spangled  Banner. 

If  fine  words  could  make  fair  weather,  the  troubles  of 
Egypt  ought  to  have  vanished  with  the  darkness  of  the 
night ; but  although  the  sun  rose  the  next  morning  over 
the  Mokattam  hills  without  a cloud,  the  political  sky  was 
as  dark  and  threatening  as  ever.  Weeks  passed,  and 
affairs  grew  “no  better”  very  fast.  Change  succeeded  to 
change,  yet  none  brought  the  desired  relief.  The  sym- 
pathy of  Americans  was  still  with  the  National  party  to 
this  extent,  that  they  felt  that  the  country  had  a substantial 
grievance  in  the  enormous  burden  of  debt  and  of  taxation 
which  had  been  rolled  upon  it,  and  in  the  swarm  of  foreign 
officials  which  eat  out  its  substance — a grievance  against 
which  it  was  a matter  of  loyalty  and  of  patriotism  to  pro- 
test with  the  utmost  energy.  Nor  was  this  feeling  confined 
to  Americans  : so  far  as  I could  learn,  it  was  the  sentiment 
of  all  foreigners  in  Cairo,  except  those  who  were  directly 
or  indirectly  interested  in  the  maintenance  of  the  Control. 


20 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1382. 


But  the  best  cause  may  be  ruined  by  folly  or  by  vio- 
lence. If  the  National  party  had  been  what  a party  is  in 
other  countries — if  it  had  limited  itself  to  a firm,  manly 
protest  against  abuses — it  would  have  had  the  sympathy 
and  support  of  all  the  friends  of  good  government  through- 
out Europe  and  in  America.  But  they  do  not  do  things 
in  that  way  in  Egypt.  There  are  no  political  parties  such 
as  exist  in  England  and  in  America,  which  can  give  effect 
to  public  indignation.  The  Arabs  do  not  understand  our 
way  of  expressing  discontent,  by  holding  public  meetings 
and  passing  resolutions.  The  only  organized  body  is  the 
army,  so  that  a political  movement,  to  carry  any  force  with 
it,  becomes  almost  of  necessity  a military  movement.  It 
is  so  much  easier  to  make  changes  in  the  Mexican  way, 
by  a pronunciamento  and  a military  demonstration,  than 
by  the  slow  process  of  petitioning  and  protesting.  Why 
should  they  take  this  roundabout  way  of  carrying  out  their 
will,  when  it  was  only  necessary  to  march  on  the  Palace  ? 
As  the  poor  Khedive  was  wholly  unsupported,  he  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  submit.  The  Anglo-French  Control- 
lers of  course  protested  vigorously,  but  as  they  had  not  a 
soldier  at  their  back,  Arabi  Bey,  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ments, laughed  them  to  scorn. 

This  military  remedy  for  the  evils  of  the  state,  though 
at  first  it  seemed  quite  Napoleonic,  at  last  became  weari- 
some, and  Americans  ceased  to  regard  it  with  enthusiasm. 
The  heroic  treatment  in  disease  sometimes  cures,  but  not 
unfrequently  kills  ; and  so  it  might  be  with  the  unhappy 
state  on  which  these  army  surgeons  were  making  such  ter- 
rible experiments.  We  began  to  suspect  that  these  new 
leaders,  who  raised  the  cry  of  “ Egypt  for  the  Egyptians,” 
meant  only  Egypt  for  themselves.  They  did  not  show  such 
unselfish  patriotism  as  lifted  them  above  the  mass  of  their 
countrymen.  They  were  just  as  full  of  intrigue,  and  just 


EGYPT  IN  THE  SPRING  OF  1882. 


21 


as  eager  for  power — in  short,  just  as  thorough  Arabs — as 
the  men  whom  they  had  displaced,  while  they  showed  a 
childish  incapacity  for  government,  putting  up  one  day 
what  they  pulled  down  the  next.  This  was  not  a gov- 
ernment based  on  political  principles,  or  even  a govern- 
ment of  party,  but  a government  of  mere  caprice.  They 
dictated  to  the  Khedive  the  Ministers  he  should  appoint, 
and  then  deposed  the  men  of  their  own  creation.  This 
was  repeated  so  often  that  it  created  in  the  foreign  com- 
munity a general  feeling  of  insecurity.  The  Egyptian 
leaders  themselves  seemed  to  have  a sense  of  their  suc- 
cessive failures  ; but  this,  instead  of  leading  them  to  adopt 
a more  conciliatory  policy,  only  enraged  them  to  the  point 
of  taking  still  more  desperate  measures.  They  could  go 
to  any  length,  for  there  was  no  restraint  upon  their  power. 
But  one  thing  they  could  not  do — they  could  not  inspire 
confidence.  The  more  changes  they  made,  the  more  did 
they  stir  up  uneasiness  and  alarm  ; and  when  at  last  it 
came  to  the  point  that  troops  surrounded  the  Palace,  and 
gave  the  Khedive  only  till  a certain  hour  in  which  to  make 
his  submission,  with  orders  to  fire  upon  him  in  case  he 
refused,  the  best  friends  of  Egypt  said,  This  is  Revolution  ! 
They  saw  that  the  country  was  drifting  into  hopeless  anar- 
chy ; that  the  temper  of  the  people  was  becoming  more 
sullen  ; that  the  worst  elements  of  the  Arab  nature  were 
aroused,  and  would  soon  get  beyond  control.  All  the 
dangers  which  we  fondly  hoped  were  past,  came  back 
again  more  threatening  than  before.  The  temporary  tran- 
quillity which  we  had  enjoyed  was  but  the  lull  before  the 
storm. 


CHAPTER  H. 


EXGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 

“What  business  have  the  English  in  Egypt?”  is  a ques- 
tion often  asked  since  the  recent  events.  Without  assum- 
ing to  speak  for  those  who  are  well  able  to  speak  for 
themselves,  there  are  some  plain  principles  of  justice  which 
must  occur-  to  all  candid  minds,  and  which  may  furnish  at 
least  a partial  answer.  Englishmen  as  individuals  have 
just  the  same  rights  in  Egypt  which  Americans  have — no 
more  and  no  less.  We  claim  the  right  of  going  to  Egypt, 
as  we  would  go  to  France  or  Italy,  and  as  long  as  we  go 
quietly  about  our  business,  of  having  the  protection  of  its 
laws.  Certainly  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  insist  that  the 
Egyptian  Government  shall  see  to  it  that  American  citizens 
are  protected  in  life  and  property,  that  they  are  not  robbed 
or  assassinated.  If,  in  spite  of  all  assurances  of  protection, 
they  are  robbed  or  murdered,  the  very  least  their  Govern- 
ment can  do  is  to  make  a demand,  respectful  but  deter- 
mined, that  the  robbers  or  murderers  shall  be  punished. 
The  most  violent  denouncers  of  English  intervention  can 
hardly  deny  that  in  this  respect  Englishmen  have  the  same 
rights  as  Americans.  But  there  was  a time  not  many 
months  ago  when  neither  an  Englishman  nor  an  American 
could  show  himself  anywhere  in  Egypt  without  danger  of 
being  both  robbed  and  murdered  ; when  the  streets  of 
Cairo  and  of  Alexandria  were  as  unsafe  as  if  one  were 
among  the  cannibals  of  New  Guinea  or  the  head-hunters 
of  Borneo. 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


23 


Then  ensued  a veritable  panic — a feeling  almost  as  if 
a reign  of  terror  bad  begun.  Foreign  consuls  warned 
their  countrymen  that  they  could  no  longer  be  responsi- 
ble for  their-  safety,  and  advised  them  to  get  out  of  the 
country.  To  protect  them  as  far  as  possible,  the  French 
and  English  fleets  were  ordered  to  Alexandria.  This, 
in  the  opinion  of  many,  was  a fatal  mistake.  But  for 
this,  it  is  said,  there  would  have  been  no  massacre  and 
no  bombardment.  This  inflamed  the  feeling  of  the  Arab 
population  to  the  highest  point,  and  precipitated  the  ter- 
rible events  which  followed.  This  is  possible,  and  yet, 
looking  at  it  calmly,  I cannot  see  that  England  and 
France  did  any  more  than  they  ought  to  have  done,  or 
that  there  was  any  sufficient  cause  to  rouse  a populace  to 
such  rage  and  fury. 

Let  us  make  the  case  our  own.  Suppose  for  some 
cause — not  our  own  fault,  some  action  of  our  Govern- 
ment— Americans  were  suddenly  to  become  unpopular  in 
Mexico,  so  much  so  that  American  residents  in  Vera  Cruz 
felt  that  their  lives  were  not  safe,  and  that  for  their  protec- 
tion the  squadron  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  were  ordered  to 
that  port.  Would  that  have  been  an  offence  to  the  majesty 
of  Mexico  sufficient  to  justify,  or  to  excuse,  the  Mexicans 
if  they  should  rise  and  massacre  every  American  whom 
they  could  find  in  their  streets  ? Or  suppose  they  should 
begin  to  throw  up  earthworks,  and  train  their  guns  on  our 
ships,  should  we  strike  our  flag,  and  steal  ignominiously 
out  of  the  harbor  ? On  the  contrary,  I think  an  American 
Admiral  would  have  done  just  what  the  English  Admiral 
did — that  he  would  not  have  lifted  an  anchor  under  the 
compulsion  of  threats,  but  stayed  where  he  was,  and  taken 
the  consequences.  The  fleet  was  lying  quietly  in  the  har- 
bor of  Alexandria,  not  a gun  had  been  fired,  when  there 
occurred  in  that  city  one  of  the  most  atrocious  massacres 


24 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


of  modem  times.  Hundreds  of  Europeans  were  hunted 
down  in  the  streets,  clubbed  to  death  or  bayoneted  : for 
soldiers,  whose  business  it  was  to  keep  order,  took  part  in 
the  cowardly  butchery. 

Of  this  savage  outbreak,  a great  many  explanations 
have  been  offered.  But  we  sometimes  go  very  far  round 
to  find  a reason  for  an  act  or  an  event,  when  the  cause 
lies  on  the  surface.  The  real  cause  was  not  a politi- 
cal one,  not  a sense  of  injury  at  the  action  of  France  or 
England,  but  the  natural  temper  of  the  people.  On  board 
our  ship  from  Naples  to  Alexandria  was  a gentleman  who 
had  been  the  French  Consul  at  the  latter  port  for  more 
than  twenty  years  ; and  to  my  inquiry  for  his  opinion  of 
the  people  among  whom  he  had  lived  so  long,  he  answered 
almost  savagely,  “ Les  Arabes  sont  betes  feroces!”  That 
tells  the  whole  story.  There  is  in  the  Arab  nature  an  ele- 
ment of  ferocity  that  may  well  liken  them  to  wild  beasts. 
It  is  a feeling  compounded  of  hatred  of  foreigners  and 
religious  fanaticism,  which  only  needs  to  be  let  loose  from 
restraint  to  lead  them  to  any  act  of  violence  and  blood.  It 
was  with  such  a population  that  England  had  to  deal. 

From  the  moment  of  the  massacre,  the  relations  of 
England  and  Egypt  were  changed.  It  was  no  longer  a 
question  of  Anglo-French  Control.  The  blood  of  mur- 
dered Englishmen  cried  from  the  stones  of  the  streets  of 
Alexandria,  and  called  for  punishment.  It  is  said  that  we 
must  not  hold  either  the  government  or  the  people  respon- 
sible for  what  was  merely  the  act  of  a mob.  Certainly  not,  if 
either  government  or  people  at  once  disclaim  all  sympathy 
with  the  atrocious  crime,  and  make  haste  to  punish  the  per- 
petrators. For  this  measure  of  atonement  England  waited 
patiently,  but  none  came.  To  be  sure,  the  military  party 
made  a show  of  virtuous  indignation.  Hundreds  were 
arrested,  but  not  a man  was  punished.  By  the  course  of 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


25 


double-dealing  and  excuses  for  delay,  it  became  evident 
that  tlie  sympathy  of  the  army  and  the  people  was  with 
those  who  perpetrated  the  massacre,  and  not  with  their 
unhappy  victims.  It  then  became  necessary  for  England 
to  take  the  matter  into  her  own  hands. 

That  Arabi  Pacha  was  in  any  way  responsible  for 
the  massacre  is  not  pretended,  for  he  was  at  the  time 
in  Cairo.  But  that  he  felt  a keen  regret  for  it,  or 
that  he  took  any  decided  measures  to  punish  its  per- 
petrators, I find  no  evidence.  I fear  that  he  was  in 
this  like  his  race — a true  Arab  in  duplicity.  He  has 
shown  many  points  of  his  character  since  that  evening 
when  I sat  opposite  to  him  at  Cairo,  and  he  touched  his 
breast  and  forehead,  and  gave  me  the  kiss  of  peace.  He 
has  been  lifted  up  to  a higher  position,  as  the  head  not 
only  of  the  army,  but  of  the  state.  Perhaps  I can  judge 
him  better  now,  can  see  him  in  his  true  proportions,  and 
form  a clearer  idea  of  the  real  greatness  or  littleness  of  the 
man.  I would  judge  him  justly,  with  full  recognition  of 
all  in  him  that  is  worthy  of  respect.  I do  not  by  any 
means  regard  him  as  a light  and  trifling  character,  to  be 
dismissed  with  a sneer.  He  is  a man  of  courage  and 
capacity.  No  man  could  place  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
great  national  movement,  as  he  has  done,  who  did  not  pos- 
sess both.  Nor  is  he  merely  puffed  up  with  conceit  and 
vanity,  with  no  serious  purpose.  There  is  in  him  an  ele- 
ment of  religious  fanaticism,  which  makes  him  in  dead 
earnest  in  anything  he  undertakes.  Whatever  education 
he  has  was  obtained  at  the  University  of  El  Azhar  in  Cairo, 
which  is  the  very  centre  and  focus  of  Moslem  fanaticism. 
One  who  was  a fellow-student  with  him  there,  tells  me  that 
he  was  very  religious  and  devout.  Such  a man  is  not  a 
contemptible  enemy.  As  to  his  patriotism,  I neither  dis- 
pute it  nor  doubt  it,  although  I am  very  incredulous  of 


26 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


patriotism  among  Moslems  and  Arabs — at  least  the  word 
lias  to  be  understood  in  a peculiar  way.  Patriotism  has 
its  types,  as  it  appears  among  different  nations.  The  Bed- 
aween  are  intensely  patriotic,  though  their  only  country  is 
the  desert.  Every  sheik  is  jealous  for  his  tribe — that  is, 
within  its  territory  he  is  not  willing  that  anybody  should 
have  the  privilege  of  robbing  but  himself.  In  Mexico 
every  man  who  makes  a revolution  is  a patriot — that  is,  he 
believes  (honestly,  no  doubt)  that  the  good  of  the  country 
requires  that  he  should  be  the  head  of  the  state,  and  he 
gets  up  a revolution  to  carry  out  that  patriotic  purpose. 
Whether  the  patriotism  of  the  Egyptian  leader  has  any 
higher  character  than  this,  may  be  doubted.  He  seems  to  be 
compounded  in  about  equal  parts  of  three  elements,  which 
are  the  master-passions  of  his  nature— hatred  of  foreign- 
ers, religious  fanaticism,  and  personal  ambition.  These 
different  impulses  are  so  mixed  up  in  him,  that  prob- 
ably he  does  not  know  one  from  another.  He  does  not 
stop  to  analyze  his  motives  (the  Arab  intellect  is  not 
given  to  such  fine  distinctions),  and  so  he  might  well  think 
he  was  acting  from  one  when  he  was  really  acting  from 
another.  When  he  was  seeking  his  own  ambition,  he  be- 
lieved he  was  seeking  the  good  of  his  country,  and  even 
doing  God  service  : for  it  must  be  that  Allah  was  pleased 
that  honor  should  come  to  such  a faithful  servant.  What  a 
happy  conjunction  of  circumstances,  whereby  he  was  able 
at  one  and  the  same  moment  to  serve  God,  his  country, 
and  himself ! We  have  no  doubt  that  he  wished  Egypt  to 
be  independent  of  all  foreign  control — of  the  control  of 
Turkey  as  well  as  of  France  and  England,  however  he 
might  profess  loyalty  to  the  Sultan,  and  then  he  would  have 
liked  to  be  the  head  of  this  independent  African  State. 
That  is  all  that  we  can  find  in  Arabi  Pacha.  Of  such  a 
man  we  cannot  make,  in  any  exalted  sense,  either  a patriot 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


27 


or  a prophet,  a restorer  of  Islam  or  a savior  of  his  country. 

The  massacre  took  place  on  the  11th  of  June  ; the  bom- 
bardment followed  on  the  11th  of  July.  One  whole  month 
England  was  waiting  for  some  atonement  for  that  horrible 
outrage,  some  show  of  a disposition  to  punish  such  bar- 
barity and  crime.  But  instead  of  that,  the  military  party, 
which  was  now  in  full  power,  felt  not  so  much  shame  at 
this  inhuman  massacre  as  annoyance  at  the  continued  pres- 
ence of  English  ships  in  the  harbor.  They  had  a perfect 
right  to  be  there,  as  American  ships  would  have  had  a right 
to  be  there  if  Americans  had  been  massacred  in  the  streets 
of  Alexandria  ; and  if  punishment  had  been  so  long  de- 
layed that  the  authorities,  instead  of  punishing,  seemed 
to  justify  the  act,  and  to  make  it  their  own.  Instead  of 
seizing  and  punishing  the  murderers,  they  began  to  plot 
to  drive  out  the  fleet.  If  they  had  had  torpedoes,  they 
would  have  blown  up  the  ironclads.  As  it  was,  they  could 
only  throw  up  breastworks  and  plant  guns,  with  the  plain 
intent,  as  soon  as  they  were  strong  enough,  to  open  fire. 
Now  it  is  not  in  human  nature,  least  of  all  in  the  military 
nature,  to  see  such  preparations  for  attack  with  a tranquil 
mind  ; and  Arabi  Pacha  was  politely  requested  to  desist. 
Not  only  did  the  English  Admiral  request  this,  but  the 
Khedive  and  the  Sultan  commanded  it.  The  wily  Arab 
professed  compliance,  and  declared  that  all  mounting  of 
guns  had  been  stopped  ; but  when  an  electric  light  from 
the  fleet  was  turned  on  the  forts,  the  men  were  found  as 
busily  at  work  as  ever.  After  this  discovery  of  falsehood 
and  treachery,  the  Admiral  thought  it  prudent  to  take 
some  other  security  than  the  word  of  a Moslem. 

And  so  at  last  the  war  was  begun.  On  Tuesday  morn- 
ing, the  11th  of  July,  the  English  fleet  commenced  the 
bombardment  of  Alexandria,  and  in  a few  hours  silenced 
the  forts,  and  that  afternoon  or  the  next  morning  took 


23 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


possession.  "When  we  heard  that  the  first  gun  had  "been 
fired,  it  was  with  a feeling  of  relief.  The  conflict  was 
inevitable,  and  as  it  had  to  come,  the  sooner  it  came  the 
better  : for  the  sooner  it  began,  the  sooner  it  would  be 
over,  and  thus  an  end  be  put  to  a state  of  things  which 
was  the  ruin  of  Egypt,  while  it  was  a source  of  perplexity 
and  uneasiness  to  all  Europe.  War  is  a terrible  thing,  but 
there  are  things  worse  than  war.  Anarchy  is  worse.  Bet- 
ter a conflict  on  the  battlefield  or  on  the  sea  than  such  fi 
state  of  things,  that  part  of  a city’s  population  was  in 
daily  fear  of  massacre  ; that  an  European  dare  not  walk 
the  streets  lest  he  should  be  the  object  of  insult  or  of  per- 
sonal violence  ; and  that  the  few  remaining  residents  who 
could  not  flee  were  obliged  to  seek  for  safety  by  barricad- 
ing themselves  within  their  houses,  with  the  dreadful  pros- 
pect of  having  to  fight  with  an  infuriated  rabble,  intent  on 
pillage  and  fierce  for  blood. 

When  it  came  to  the  point  of  actual  hostilities,  it 
pleased  some  who  could  see  nothing  in  the  course  of 
England  but  injustice  and  oppression,  to  speak  of  it  as 
a war  against  Egypt.  Certainly  it  was  a war  in  Egyptian 
waters  and  on  Egyptian  soil ; but  it  was  not  a war  against 
the  Egyptian  government,  but,  on  the  contrary,  in  sup- 
port of  that  government  against  an  armed  rebellion  which 
threatened  to  destroy  it.  To  this  intervention  England 
was  bound  by  every  sentiment  of  justice  and  honor  : for 
she  had  been  the  adviser,  and  as  it  were  the  protector,  of 
the  Khedive.  Indeed  it  was  because  he  was  thought  to 
be  too  much  under  her  influence  and  control,  that  he  be- 
came unpopular  with  the  military  party  at  home.  After  1 
leading  him  into  a position  of  such  difficulty  and  such 
peril,  it  would  have  been  an  infamy  to  desert  him  in  the 
very  crisis  of  his  fate.  That  shame  was  not  to  be  put 
upon  England.  On  the  other  hand,  how  loyally  and  faith- 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


20 


fully  she  fulfilled  her  obligations  to  her  ally,  the  world 
knows.  The  pretence  of  a great  patriotic  movement  in 
Egypt,  and  a show  of  military  power,  were  kept  up  until  the 
troops  could  arrive  from  England  and  from  India,  when, 
on  the  13th  of  September,  starting  a little  after  midnight, 
they  stole  silently  across  the  sands  up  to  the  strongly- 
fortified  position  of  the  enemy,  and  as  soon  as  daylight 
began  to  appear,  in  the  gray  of  the  early  morning,  stormed 
the  intrenchments,  and  in  one  hour  destroyed  the  whole 
Egyptian  army.  The  collapse  was  complete  ; the  defeat 
became  a rout ; men  and  horses  fled  in  wild  dismay  on  the 
road  to  Cairo,  which  the  British  troops  entered  the  nest 
day,  cheered  and  welcomed  by  the  very  mob  that,  if  it 
had  felt  strong  enough,  would  have  revelled  with  fiendish 
delight  in  the  massacre  of  every  man  of  the  regiments 
that  now  marched  through  their  streets.  The  Khedive 
was  brought  back,  and  received  with  every  demonstration 
of  enthusiastic  loyalty ; while  the  conquering  army  camped 
in  the  public  squares. 

The  English  being  thus  established  in  Egypt,  the 
public  feeling  of  Europe  and  America  is  much  exercised 
as  to  how  long  they  are  to  stay  there.  Hardly  had  they 
entered  Cairo  before  the  Porte  addressed  a letter  to  Lord 
Duliei'in,  intimating  that  as  the  object  of  their  expedition 
was  accomplished,  there  was  no  use  for  them  to  remain 
any  longer,  and  asking  how  soon  they  would  leave  the 
country  and  return  to  England  ? To  this  modest  inquiry, 
the  accomplished  diplomatist  returned  an  answer,  which  it 
is  to  be  hoped  gave  satisfaction,  to  the  effect  that  England 
had  no  wish  to  prolong  her  occupation,  but  that  she  had 
made  great  sacrifices  to  restore  order  in  Egypt,  and  could 
not  leave  the  country  until  she  had  taken  ample  security 
against  a recurrence  of  the  same  state  of  anarchy — which, 
being  interpreted,  signifies  that  the  troops  will  remain  just 


30 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


as  long  as  it  pleases  the  English  government  and  people. 
They  may  well  be  excused  if  they  take  their  own  time 
about  it,  for  if  Englishmen,  as  individuals,  have  the 
same  rights  in  Egypt  as  Americans,  yet  beyond  these 
general  rights,  which  are  common  to  all  foreigners,  Eng-  v 
land  as  a country  has  some  special  claims  to  consideration. 
England  has  fought  for  Egypt  and  for  Turkey  again  and 
again.  Indeed  it  may  be  said  that  both  owe  to  her  their 
continued  existence.  When  Napoleon  invaded  Egypt 
in  1798,  he  would  have  taken  the  country  and  kept  it  if 
it  had  not  been  for  England.  The  Egyptians  could  do 
nothing  : Napoleon  swept  away  the  Mamelukes  at  the  Bat- 
tle of  the  Pyramids.  It  was  an  English  fleet  under  Lord 
Nelson  which  fought  the  Battle  of  the  Nile.  It  was  an 
English  General,  Sir  Kalph  Abercrombie,  who  gained  the 
final  victory  on  land  which  drove  the  French  out  of  Egypt. 
Napoleon  invaded  Syria,  and  earned  everything  before 
him  till  he  encountered  the  English  at  Acre,  who  soon  put 
a stop  to  his  victorious  career.  Again  in  1831  Ibrahim 
Pacha  invaded  Syria,  and  would  have  marched  on  Con- 
stantinople if  he  had  not  been  stopped  by  the  European 
powers.  In  1851  England  and  France  went  to  war  with 
Russia  to  preserve  Turkey.  Thus  often  has  England  fought 
for  Turkey  and  for  Egypt,  and  the  bones  of  her  soldiers 
who  have  fallen  in  defending  those  Moslem  powers,  are 
scattered  on  many  battlefields  in  three  continents — in 
Europe,  in  Asia,  and  in  Africa.  It  is  not  yet  five  years 
since  England  put  forth  her  powerful  hand  to  save  Turkey, 
which  was  at  the  feet  of  Russia.  A Russian  army  was  at 
the  gates  of  Constantinople,  and  could  have  entered  the 
city,  and  planted  its  guns  on  the  heights  overlooking  the 
Bosphorus,  and  the  Russian  flag  might  have  waved  from 
all  the  minarets  of  the  Turkish  capital.  When  in  that  city 
a few  months  since,  a friend  pointed  out  the  position  of  the 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


31 


Russian  army,  which  was  camped  almost  under  tne  walls, 
and  we  asked,  Why  did  it  not  march  in  and  take  full  pos- 
session ? The  answer  was,  It  was  stopped  by  the  English 
fleet,  which  came' up  the  Dardanelles  and  through  the  Sea 
of  Marmora,  and  anchored  in  sight  of  Constantinople.  The 
Sultan,  who  has  lately  protested  so  energetically  against  an 
English  fleet  in  the  harbor  of  Alexandria  as  an  invasion  of 
his  sovereign  rights,  was  not  at  all  disturbed  at  the  sight 
then,  but  on  the  contrary  felt  an  immeasurable  relief,  as  if 
he  had  been  reprieved  from  a sentence  of  death,  when  he 
saw  the  flags  of  the  great  English  ironclads  from  the  win- 
dows of  his  Palace.  After  thus  saving  both  Turkey  and 
Egypt  again  and  again,  it  is  not  a great  presumption  for 
England  to  ask  whether  she  has  not  some  rights  in  the  East 
which  Turk  and  Arab  are  bound  to  respect. 

Besides  all  this,  England  has  great  material  interests  in 
Egypt.  We  say  nothing  of  the  interest  of  bondholders, 
of  money  loaned  for  internal  improvements — for  railroads 
and  canals,  and  piers  and  ports.  This  very  harbor  of 
Alexandria,  which  has  been  the  scene  of  such  great  events, 
was  built  largely  by  English  money.  But  leaving  all 
this,  the  interest  of  England  in  the  Suez  Canal  is  greater 
than  that  of  all  the  world  beside.  Eighty  or  ninety  per 
cent,  of  the  ships  that  pass  through  that  Canal,  are  Eng- 
lish. It  is  the  highway  from  England  to  India.  The 
distance  from  London  or  Liverpool  to  Bombay,  is  nearly 
five  thousand  miles  less  by  the  Suez  Canal  than  by  the  old 
route  around  Africa.  The  control  of  this,  therefore,  is  not 
only  a commercial  convenience  ; it  is  a military  necessity. 
Suppose  there  were  another  mutiny  in  India,  and  that 
Arabi  Pacha  had  command  of  the  Suez  Canal,  and  should 
think  it  a good  time  to  “ get  even  ” with  England  by  stop- 
ping all  transit,  and  that  the  English  troops  should  have  to 
be  sent  around  by  way  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  the 


32 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


two  or  three  weeks’  delay  might  cause  the  loss  of  the  Eng- 
lish Empire  in  India.  Can  England  leave  a matter  of  such 
moment  to  the  caprice  of  a military  adventurer  ? 

In  the  presence  of  such  interests,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  what  England  has  been  fighting  for.  Aside 
from  her  obligations  to  the  Khedive,  she  had  immense  in- 
terests in  Egypt,  and  Egypt  was  in  a state  of  anarchy, 
which  threatened  to  destroy  those  interests.  England  was 
fighting  to  put  down  that  anarchy,  and  to  restore  order 
and  good  government.  In  this  she  was  fighting  for  the 
real  interest  of  Egypt  as  well  as  her  own.  If  the  recent 
state  of  things  continued,  the  country  was  ruined.  The 
only  hope  was  in  prompt  and  decisive  action,  which  should 
crush  rebellion  and  reestablish  order.  At  the  same  time, 
England  was  fighting  for  the  Suez  Canal,  as  she  would  for 
Malta  and  Gibraltar,  as  outworks  of  Britain,  whose  preser- 
vation concerned  the  integrity  of  her  mighty  realm. 

For  these  reasons,  which  might  be  enlarged  to  any 
extent,  it  is  clear  that  England  had  a right  to  send  her 
troops  to  Egypt  to  settle  this  business  between  a faithful 
ally,  the  present  Khedive  (whom  the  military  party  would 
sacrifice  simply  because  he  had  been  such  a friend  of  Eng- 
land), and  his  rebellious  soldiers.  She  had  a right  to  go 
there,  if  she  had  a right  to  go  anywhere,  to  fight  for  the 
security  of  her  Indian  Empire.  In  the  battle  which  she 
undertook,  she  was  fighting  for  our  interests  as  well  as  her 
own  : to  make  it  safe  for  Americans  to  visit  Egypt,  to  go 
up  the  Nile,  and  to  pursue  their  lawful  callings — their 
travels,  or  their  business  affairs,  or  their  missionary  enter- 
prises— in  the  East. 

And  so  the  English  are  masters  of  Cairo ! One  more 
victory  for  civilization ! To  some  this  may  seem  a very 
un-American  sentiment.  Do  we  not  claim  America  for 
the  Americans,  and  should  we  not  concede  also,  as  a mat- 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


33 


ter  of  simple  justice,  Egypt  for  the  Egyptians  ? But  the 
course  of  events  has  so  drifted  within  a few  months,  and 
so  many  new  elements  have  come  in  to  change  the  issue, 
that  “ Egypt  for  the  Egyptians  ” would  now  mean  Egypt 
to  be  given  up  to  anarchy  and  ruin.  It  is  not  easy  to 
apportion  praise  or  blame  between  nations  any  more  than 
between  individuals.  There  may  be  wrong  on  both  sides. 
I am  far  from  thinking  England  blameless  in  her  dealings 
with  Egypt.  In  the  matter  of  the  Anglo-French  Control, 
there  is  much  which  an  Englishman  would  wish  to  forget. 
But  that  does  not  change  the  fact  that  when  it  came  to 
the  point  of  war,  the  issue  was  sharply  defined  between 
anarchy  and  order,  between  civilization  and  barbarism  ; 
and  no  friend  of  humanity  could  hesitate  where  to  be- 
stow his  sympathies.  It  was  precisely  the  same  question 
in  Egypt  which  so  often  recurs  to  the  traveller  in  India. 
If  we  go  back  to  the  origin  of  English  power  in  India, 
the  world  can  hardly  furnish  a case  of  greater  spolia- 
tion and  robbery.  All  the  denunciations  of  it  by  Burke 
were  fully  deserved.  And  yet  in  the  course  of  a hun- 
dred years,  things  have  so  come  round  that  to-day  the 
maintenance  of  English  power  is  the  security  of  order 
and  peace  in  India,  and  the  hope  of  civilization  in  South- 
ern Asia.  And  when  I visited  the  Residency  in  Luck- 
now, and  walked  over  the  holy  ground  where  so  many  of 
the  best  and  bravest  of  England  fought  and  fell,  it  was 
with  no  divided  sympathies  between  its  defenders  and  the 
murderous  Sepoys  that  gathered  round  them  for  their  de- 
struction. No  matter  what  were  the  wrongs  suffered  by 
another  generation  of  Hindoos  from  another  generation 
of  Englishmen — that  could  not  change  the  issue,  that  the 
battle  then  being  fought  around  those  walls  was  a battle 
between  European  civilization  and  Asiatic  barbarism.  And 
the  same  tin-ill  of  joy  and  pride  that  shot  through  every 


34 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


vein  at  the  story  of  the  coining  of  Havelock  to  the  relief  of 
the  beleaguered  garrison  of  Lucknow,  now  returned  when 
I read  of  the  Highlanders  inarching  up  the  heights  and 
taking  possession  of  the  Citadel  of  Cairo. 

The  war  is  over,  but  what  shall  come  after  it  ? That  is  • 
the  question  which  now  troubles  Europe  and  the  East. 
As  England  has  had  to  fight  the  battle  alone,  she  is  en- 
titled to  consider,  first  of  all,  her  own  security  and  pro- 
tection. She  can  no  longer  leave  the  control  of  the  Suez 
Canal,  and  with  it  her  communications  with  India,  to  the 
mercy  of  any  military  usurper,  who  by  getting  control 
of  the  army,  may  be  master  of  Egypt — only  for  a few 
weeks,  it  may  be,  yet  long  enough  to  work  irremediable 
injury  to  the  commerce  of  the  world.  How  is  this  security 
to  be  obtained  ? Years  ago  Bismarck  advised  England  to 
take  Egypt  and  keep  it.  Mr.  Gladstone  disavows  any  such 
purpose,  and  no  doubt  with  the  utmost  sincerity.  But 
what  may  not  be  a matter  of  design,  may  be  a matter  of 
necessity.  If  it  were  so,  it  would  be  the  best  possible  thing 
for  that  country.  But  the  same  end  may  be  accomplished 
by  England  assuming  a protectorate  over  Egypt,  while 
leaving  the  Khedive  as  its  nominal  ruler. 

As  for  Turkey,  she  has  done  nothing,  and  should  get 
nothing.  Indeed  her  part  has  been  worse  than  nothing. 
Her  whole  course  from  the  beginning  has  been  one  of 
falsehood  and  treachery.  The  Sultan  encouraged  the  re- 
volt of  Arabi  Pacha,  and  sent  him  a decoration  at  the  very 
time  that  he  was  in  arms  against  the  Khedive,  only  to  de- 
nounce him  as  a rebel  as  soon  as  (and  not  a moment  be- 
fore) it  became  evident  that  his  cause  was  lost!  The 
proper  return  for  this  duplicity  would  be  that  the  Sultan 
should  lose  his  hold  in  Africa.  If,  as  the  outcome  of  this 
war,  the  connection  of  Egypt  with  Turkey  could  be  sev- 
ered forever,  the  end  would  be  worth  all  that  it  has  cost. 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


35 


France  too  can  expect  to  reap  little  benefit  from  a war 
fought  wholly  by  England.  No  great  power  ever  acted  a 
more  contemptible  part.  After  sending  her  fleet  to  Alexan- 
dria, then  to  withdraw  it  at  the  very  moment  when  the  affair 
threatened  to  become  serious,  and  to  sail  away  without 
firing  a gun,  was  an  exhibition  of  weakness  such  as  hardly 
ever  was  given  by  a nation  jealous  of  its  military  reputa- 
tion and  glory.  After  this,  it  is  pitiful  to  read  how,  as 
soon  as  the  English  entered  Cairo,  the  French  officials 
came  flocking  back,  like  vultures  to  their  prey  ; and  that 
the  French  Controller  reappeared  on  the  scene,  asking,  in 
a surprised  and  injured  tone,  and  with  an  assurance  that 
was  peculiarly  French,  why  he  was  not  invited  to  attend 
the  meeting  of  the  Ministers  of  the  Khedive,  as  one  of 
his  recognized  advisers ! This  bustling  official  soon  re- 
ceived his  quietus  in  a notice  issued  by  the  government, 
addressed  not  to  him  alone,  but  to  all  the  powers,  that 
the  Foreign  Control  was  abolished  ! France  found  that 
she  could  not  leave  it  to  England  to  fight  the  battle,  and 
she  come  in  to  reap  the  fruits  of  victory.  This  is  not 
the  least  of  the  good  results  of  the  war,  that  the  Control, 
which  has  been  such  an  offence  to  Egypt,  and  such  a scan- 
dal to  the  world,  is  to  cease  to  exist  ; and  that  England 
and  France  will  no  longer  appear  in  the  character  of 
bailiffs  engaged  in  the  collection  of  private  debts. 

But  it  is  not  only  the  fate  of  Egypt  that  is  at  stake,  but 
in  some  degree  of  all  the  East.  It  is  a strange  comment 
on  our  ideas  of  the  natural  progress  of  society  or  of  civili- 
zation, that  the  border-land  between  Asia  and  Africa,  which 
had  on  either  side  of  it  the  greatest  empires  of  antiquity, 
is  to  this  day  overrun  by  half-savage  tribes — true  sons  of 
tlshmacl,  whose  hand  is  against  every  man,  and  every  man’s 
hand  against  them.  If  indeed  civilization  is  ever  to  invade 
those  waste  places  of  the  earth — if  law  and  order  are  to 


36 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


subdue  the  children  of  the  desert,  and  make  their  roving- 
ground  as  safe  from  robbers  as  the  sea  is  from  pirates — it 
must  be  by  the  pressure  of  something  stronger  than  Egyp- 
tian or  Turkish  power.  This  is  a matter  which  concerns, 
not  England  alone,  but  all  commercial  nations  as  well,  which 
have  communication  with  the  far  East,  and  which,  coming 1 
and  going,  have  to  traverse  these  desolate  plains,  that  have 
been  given  up  hitherto,  in  more  senses  than  one,  to  the 
spirit  of  destruction. 

And  perhaps  it  would  not  be  impertinent  to  inquire 
just  at  this  time,  whether  Christendom  has  any  rights  in 
the  East  which  Moslems  are  bound  to  respect  ? It  is  not  a 
pleasant  thing  for  the  English  or  American  traveller  to  find 
the  land  which  was  the  cradle  of  his  religion  under  the 
dominion  of  the  Turk  ; to  have  the  burial-place  of  Abra- 
ham, Isaac,  and  Jacob  covered  by  a mosque,  which  no 
Christian  may  enter  ; to  see  the  Mosque  of  Omar  standing 
on  the  ancient  site  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon  ; and  to  find 
even  the  spots  connected  with  the  life  and  death  of  our 
Saviour — the  place  of  His  birth  in  the  Church  of  the  Na- 
tivity at  Bethlehem,  and  of  His  burial  in  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem — guarded  by  those  who  de- 
spise the  very  name  of  Christ. 

Now  we  do  not  propose  to  preach  a crusade  for  the 
recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ; but  we  may  be  permitted 
to  rejoice  when,  in  the  course  of  events,  an  end  can  be  put 
to  the  humiliations  of  centuries.  This  can  only  be  by  a 
manifestation  of  superiority  so  great  as  to  compel  Arab 
and  Turk  to  treat  Christian  powers  and  Christian  peoples 
with  common  decency  and  respect.  For  we  may  as  well 
understand  first  as  last,  that  however  much  may  be  said  of 
Oriental  hospitality,  yet  to  all  true  Mussulmans,  in  their 
hearts  the  foreigner,  the  Giaour,  is  an  object  of  hatred, 
whom  it  would  be  doing  God  service  to  destroy.  The 


ENGLAND  IN  EGYPT. 


37 


American  missionaries  who  were  in  Constantinople  during 
the  Russian  war,  told  me  that  they  could  tell  how  the  battle 
was  going  by  the  looks  of  the  people  ; that  every  change 
was  reflected  in  their  faces  ; that  when  there  was  a report 
of  Turkish  victories,  the  populace  at  once  became  insolent 
toward  foreigners,  whom  their  fierce  countenances  seemed 
to  say  that  they  would  be  glad  to  massacre  ; but  when  the 
news  came  of  the  fall  of  Plevna,  and  the  rapid  march  of 
the  Russians  on  Constantinople,  they  collapsed  into  abject 
terror.  A people  of  such  a mood  and  temper  are  always 
safest  when  they  are  kept  under  the  restraint  of  over- 
whelming power. 

Seeing  that  such  issues  are  depending  on  the  action 
now  to  be  taken,  may  we  not  say  that  there  are  interests 
involved  higher  than  those  either  of  England  or  of  Egypt — 
the  interests  of  Christendom  and  of  civilization  in  the  East  ? 
England  has  an  opportunity  to  strike  a blow  at  barbarism 
such  as  is  not  given  to  a nation  in  a hundred  years.  Our 
only  fear  is  that  she  may  weakly  consent  to  give  up  her 
advantages,  and  thus  lose  by  diplomacy  what  she  has 
gained  in  war.  If  so,  the  latter  end  of  this  movement 
will  be  as  impotent  as  its  progress  hitherto  has  been 
glorious.  If  she  fails  to  complete  what  she  has  begun — 
if,  after  subduing  the  military  revolt  and  restoring  order, 
she  abandons  the  country — it  will  quickly  relapse  into  its 
former  anarchy.  Then  indeed  will  ten  devils  enter  in  where 
one  was  driven  out,  and  the  last  state  of  that  country  will 
be  worse  than  the  first.  Let  her  not  by  any  weak  compli- 
ances throw  away  an  opportunity  such  as  may  never  be 
hers  again.  “ Who  knoweth  but  she  has  come  to  the  king- 
dom for  such  a time  as  this  ? ” The  future  of  Egypt, 
and  to  a large  extent  of  the  whole  East,  is  now  in  the 
hands  of  England,  and  may  God  give  her  wisdom  and 
firmness  to  do  her  duty ! 


CHAPTER  m. 

THE  FIRST  DAT  ON  THE  DESERT. 

I did  not  come  to  Egypt  to  study  politics  or  war, 
although  the  extraordinary  interest  of  recent  events  has 
led  me  to  refer  to  both,  even  to  the  extent  of  anticipating 
what  took  place  after  we  left  Cairo.  History  has  been 
making  so  rapidly  within  the  last  few  months,  that  even 
the  passing  traveller  could  not  go  over  the  scene  where  so 
much  has  transpired,  without  at  least  a brief  outline  of 
events  which  may  change  the  face  of  the  Eastern  world. 

But  my  purpose  in  coming  to  Egypt  was  simply  to  take 
it  en  route  to  the  desert.  When  we  were  in  the  East  six 
years  ago,  we  had  planned  to  sail  from  Constantinople  to 
Beirut,  and  make  the  tour  of  the  Holy  Land  ; but  the 
cholera  had  broken  out  in  Northern  Syria,  which  caused 
such  a strict  quarantine  to  be  kept  along  the  coast,  that  we 
were  warned  that  we  should  be  subject  to  great  delay  when 
we  came  to  leave  the  country  to  enter  Egypt,  and  so  we 
were  obliged  to  sail  direct  to  Alexandria.  We  spent  six 
weeks  in  Egypt,  going  up  the  Nile,  and  then  embarked 
for  India.  I consoled  myself  for  the  loss  of  Palestine  by 
inwardly  resolving  to  keep  it  for  another  time,  when  I 
might  be  able  also  to  go  to  Mount  Sinai.  That  time  had 
now  come,  and  I was  in  Cairo  not  even  to  enjoy,  except  for 
a few  days,  its  picturesque  scenes  or  its  delightful  climate, 
but  simply  to  pass  on  my  way  to  a very  different  country. 

I had  come  from  Naples  alone,  leaving  my  family  to 
spend  the  Winter  in  Italy.  But  it  would  have  been  cheer- 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


39 


less  to  set  out  on  a solitary  pilgrimage  across  the  desert. 
"While  unsettled  in  plans,  I learned  that  Dr.  George  E. 
Post,  Professor  of  Surgery  and  Botany  in  the  Syrian  Pro- 
testant College  at  Beirut,  had  for  some  time  desired  to  make 
the  journey  to  Sinai,  and  I wrote  to  him  inviting  him  to 
share  my  tent  and  table.  To  my  great  joy,  he  was  able  to 
accept  the  invitation,  and  never  was  a traveller  more  fortu- 
nate in  his  companion.  I found  him  the  model  of  a Chris- 
tian gentleman  and  scholar.  He  is  one  of  that  corps  of 
young  men  who,  uniting  scientific  knowledge  with  mis- 
sionary zeal,  have  done  so  much  both  for  science  and  relig- 
ion, and  I may  add,  for  the  honor  of  the  American  name  in 
the  East.  For  weeks  we  rode  side  by  side  on  our  camels, 
and  his  conversation  beguiled  the  weariness  of  the  way. 
With  such  a companion,  one  could  never  be  lonely.  He  had 
lived  eighteen  years  in  Beirut,  was  master  of  the  Arabic 
language,  and  was  familiar  with  all  Oriental  customs.  He 
joined  me  in  Cairo  on  the  20th  of  February,  and  we  were 
together  a week  before  we  set  out  on  our  journey. 

He  at  once  relieved  me  of  all  the  details  of  our  pro- 
posed expedition.  It  is  no  small  thing  to  make  preparation 
for  crossing  the  desert.  One  must  choose  his  dragoman, 
and  draw  up  a formal  contract,  which  has  to  be  signed  and 
sealed  before  the  Consul,  in  which  every  item  is  specified — 
the  number  of  camels  and  tents,  the  days  of  marching,  and 
the  provisions  of  every  kind,  even  to  what  we  should  have 
for  breakfast,  for  luncheon  and  dinner,  and  to  the  number 
of  our  sheets  and  towels.  Travellers  in  the  East  may  be 
pardoned  if  they  are  sometimes  lifted  up  with  vanity  when 
they  see  that  it  takes  almost  as  much  to  set  them  in  motion 
as  to  get  a ship  under  weigh.  Though  there  were  but 
two  of  us,  it  required  a considerable  outfit  for  a month  in 
camp.  Everything  had  to  be  carried  on  the  backs  of  cam- 
els— our  tents,  iron  bedsteads,  mattresses,  table,  and  camp- 


40 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


chairs — a stock  of  household  furniture  sufficient  to  begin 
housekeeping  ; to  which  must  be  added  stores  of  canned 
meat  and  fruits,  boxes  of  eggs,  and  even  a hencoop  full  of 
chickens  ! Even  when  thus  provided,  we  could  not  have  a 
single  meal  except  as  we  carried  sacks  of  charcoal  to  cook 
our  food.  And  not  less  important  than  what  we  were  to 
eat,  was  what  we  were  to  drink,  of  which  we  must  have  a 
large  supply  : for  though  the  camels  could  go  four  days 
without  water,  we  could  not.  This  had  to  be  carried  in 
casks,  which  were  slung  on  the  backs  of  camels.  Alto- 
gether an  Arab  sheik,  with  his  patriarchal  family,  could 
hardly  make  a more  imposing  caravan. 

We  found  a dragoman  in  a Syrian  from  Beirut,  whom  Dr. 
Post  had  known  before — Yohanna  (or  Hanna)  Abeusaab — 
who  was  willing  and  obliging,  though  not  always  as  ener- 
getic as  we  could  wish,  yet  who  served  us  fairly  well,  and 
for  whom  we  had,  and  still  have,  a very  friendly  feeling. 
As  soon  as  the  contract  was  signed,  he  began  to  bustle 
about  with  a sense  of  importance,  and  in  an  hour  or  two 
knocked  at  our  doors  to  ask  us  to  come  out  into  an  open 
space  behind  the  Hotel  to  see  our  tents,  and  to  select  our 
camels.  The  tents  were  already  pitched,  and  we  drew 
aside  the  d.oor  almost  with  the  feeling  that  we  were  pene- 
trating the  retreat  of  some  Oriental  potentate.  They  were 
ornamented  with  figures  in  gay  colors,  and  carpeted  with 
Persian  rugs,  which  together  made  quite  a brave  show. 
Yohanna  smiled  serenely  as  he  saw  the  pleasure,  not  un- 
mingled with  surprise,  with  which  we  regarded  such  mag- 
nificence, and  gravely  intimated  that  he  was  not  yet  at  the 
end  of  his  resources,  but  that  he  would  do  “ more  better  ” 
for  us  before  he  got  through.  There  was  also  a house- 
keeping tent  in  which  the  cook  would  perform  his  myste- 
rious operations.  The  Arabs  would  sleep  outside  in  the 
open  air. 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


41 


The  selection  of  camels  is  a very  nice  matter,  as  on  a 
good  beast  depends  much  of  the  comfort  of  one’s  jour- 
ney. Looking  over  the  number  of  those  lying  on  the 
ground,  I picked  out  a young  dromedary  that  had  ra- 
ther a sleek  appearance.  Just  then  Dr.  Schweinfurth,  i 
Avho  was  passing  in  the  street,  came  up,  and  gave  us 
the  benefit  of  his  experience  as  an  African  traveller.  He 
thought  I had  chosen  rather  a pretty  creature,  but  ad- 
vised me  to  spread  out  what  she  carried  broadly  on  her 
back,  so  as  to  make,  not  a narrow  saddle,  but  a space  on 
which  one  could  sit  in  Turkish  fashion,  with  his  legs  under 
him,  or  change  his  posture  at  will.  I observed  that  this 
was  the  custom  of  the  Arabs,  by  which  they  are  able  to 
take  their  long  marches  on  the  desert  without  undue 
fatigue.  As  my  camel  and  I were  now  to  be  on  somewhat 
intimate  relations,  I approached  to  make  her  acquaintance, 
and  even  tendered  her  some  little  caressing,  attempting  to 
stroke  her  gently  ; but  in  an  instant  she  swung  round  her 
long  neck,  and  gave  me  a vicious  snap,  which  warned  me 
not  to  presume  on  any  familiarities.  I concluded  to  make 
no  further  advances,  but  still  virtuously  resolved  to  be  a 
kind  and  indulgent  master. 

In  all  this  busy  preparation,  I felt  as  if  I were  “ only  a 
passenger,”  although  Dr.  Post  said  that  the  Arabs,  recog- 
nizing me  as  the  head  of  the  expedition,  would  give  me  the 
title  of  “ Father  of  Backsheesh.”  I find  that  the  relation 
between  the  giver  of  backsheesh  and  the  receiver  of  it,  is 
a mysterious  and  sacred  one.  Hardly  had  I left  this  tent- 
ground  before  an  Arab,  whose  camel  I was  to  ride,  rushed 
up  to  me  in  the  street,  and  saluted  me  with  the  greatest 
warmth,  telling  me  that  “ he  was  my  backsheesli-man  ” ! 

The  camels  went  forward  to  Suez  four  days  before  we 
left  Cairo.  As  we  could  overtake  them  in  a few  hours  by 
railway,  we  lingered  behind  to  the  last  moment  to  enjoy 


42 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


the  animated  life  of  the  streets  and  bazaars.  As  we  sat  on 
our  balcony,  and  listened  once  more  to  the  music  from  the 
square  below,  it  seemed  as  if  the  band  were  playing  a 
Chant  du  Depart,  and  we  knew  that  our  time  had  come. 
But  we  both  felt  regret  at  leaving  the  most  Oriental  of 
cities,  with  perhaps  the  single  exception  of  Damascus  ; 
and  as  we  rolled  away,  we  kept  looking  back  at  the  Pyra- 
mids, as  with  other  companions  I had  looked  back  at  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter’s  as  we  departed  from  Borne.  The  Delta 
is  not  unlike  the  Campagna  in  its  broad  sweep  and  limit- 
less horizon,  and  never  did  it  appear  in  greater  beauty. 
The  Springtime  had  long  since  come,  and  already  the  land 
was  rejoicing  with  the  joy  of  its  first  harvest — a harvest 
not  of  grain,  but  of  grass.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
the  fields  were  in  bloom  with  clover.  These  rich,  juicy 
grasses  are  the  chief  dependence  of  the  Arabs  for  the  sup- 
port of  their  beasts  of  bur-den,  and  the  harvest  is  gathered 
with  the  greatest  care.  It  is  not  done  by  patent  mowers, 
as  on  our  Western  prairies  ; but  the  Arabs,  scattering  over 
the  plain  with  their  sickles,  clear  each  a rod  or  two  of 
ground,  just  enough  to  make  a load  for  a camel,  and  piling 
them  in  huge  bundles  on  their  backs,  a procession  of  these 
moving  haystacks  goes  swinging  along  the  road  into  Cairo. 
This  clover-harvest  lasts  only  a few  weeks,  but  it  is  a very 
pretty  sight,  presenting  a boundless  sea  of  verdure,  and 
illustrating  the  exhaustless  fertility  of  the  Valley  of  the 
Nile. 

And  now  we  leave  the  great  river  behind  us,  and  move 
out  on  the  broad  spaces  of  the  Delta,  where  we  find  resem- 
blances to  other  landscapes  than  the  Campagna.  If  we 
could  but  take  away  the  miserable  Arab  villages,  and  in 
their  places  introduce  a few  windmills  and  dykes  and 
canals,  we  might  be  in  Holland  ; or  if  we  were  to  go  still 
farther,  and  strip  the  landscape  of  all  but  what  nature  has 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


43 


given  it,  we  might  be  on  the  prairies  of  Illinois.  But  the 
Arabs  and  the  camels  and  the  pahn-trees  are  not  Dutch  nor 
American. 

About  fifty  miles  from  Cairo,  we  come  to  Zagazig — a 
place  which  has  risen  to  importance  as  a centre  of  the 
railway  system  of  Egypt,  the  line  from  Cairo  meeting  that 
from  Alexandria,  and  going  on  to  Ismailia  and  Suez.  Soon 
after  leaving  Zagazig,  the  railway  runs  parallel  to  the  Sweet 
Water  Canal,  and  after  a few  miles  passes  over  a spot  which 
six  months  later  was  to  be  made  famous  by  the  battle  of 
Tel-el-Kebir. 

But  as  we  cotdd  not  anticipate  history  that  was  to  come, 
our  thoughts  were  of  history  long  past  and  remote.  We 
were  here  skirting  the  land  of  Goshen,  where  J acob  and  his 
sons  settled  when  they  came  into  Egypt,  and  from  which  four 
hundred  years  later  Moses  led  the  Exodus  of  the  Israelites, 
then  grown  to  be  a nation  of  two  (perhaps  three)  millions 
of  people.  When  they  rose  up  in  the  night  to  flee  out  of 
Egypt,  it  is  not  probable  that  they  intended  to  march  by 
the  way  of  the  desert  : for  that  was  far  aside  from  the 
direct  route  to  Canaan,  the  land  promised  to  their  fathers. 
At  first  they  moved  to  the  northeast,  following  the  old  car- 
avan route  to  Syria,  from  which  they  were  turned  back  by 
a line  of  forts  which  stretched  along  the  border  of  Egypt — 
the  dividing-line  between  Asia  and  Africa.  It  was  then 
that  they  turned  southward  to  make  their  escape,  and  that 
the  Egyptians,  following  hard  after  them,  thought  that  they 
had  caught  them  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  which 
had  “ shut  them  in  ” ; and  it  was  only  when  the  Israelites 
had  crossed  the  Red  Sea,  which  not  only  overwhelmed 
their  enemies,  but  put  a barrier  to  further  pursuit,  that 
they  were  safe. 

At  Ismailia  we  struck  the  desert,  which  here  appears, 
not  as  a level  plain,  but  undulating  like  the  rolling  prairies 


44 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OY  TnE  DESERT. 


of  the  "West.  The  wind,  having  an  unbroken  sweep,  makes 
sport  of  the  sand,  as  it  does  of  snow  in  Winter,  casting  it 
up  in  huge  drifts,  like  the  dunes  thrown  up  by  the  Ger- 
man Ocean  on  the  coast  of  Holland. 

At  eight  o’clock  in  the  evening  we  reached  Suez  (we 
had  left  Cairo  at  noon),  and  stopped  at  the  hotel  where, 
with  another  travelling  companion,  I had  rested  for  a night 
six  years  before,  when  on  the  way  to  India.  There  is 
hardly  a caravanserai  in  the  world  which  receives  within 
its  doors  a more  miscellaneous  company  of  travellers,  com- 
ing and  going  between  Europe  and  Asia.  As  we  sat  at 
table,  Englishmen  who  had  just  landed  were  talking  of 
tiger-hunts  in  India.  A gentleman  with  whom  we  had 
made  a pleasant  acquaintance  in  Cairo,  was  to  leave  the 
next  morning  for  Hong  Kong.  While  conversing  with 
him,  our  dragoman  burst  in  to  tells  us  that  the  camels 
had  come,  and  with  the  Arabs  were  in  camp  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Gulf  of  Suez,  distant  three  hours’  sail.  He 
wished  us  to  be  up  at  six,  and  in  light  marching  order  for 
our-  long  journey  on  the  Desert.  We  begged  for  an  hour’s 
grace,  but  promptly  at  seven  stepped  into  the  little  boat 
that  was  lying  at  the  quay  ; and  as  our  English  friends, 
who  were  on  the  balcony  of  the  hotel,  waved  their  hand- 
kerchiefs and  wished  us  a happy  journey,  the  Arab  boat- 
men raised  their  lateen-sail,  and  we  glided  softly  from  the 
African  shore. 

But  there  was  still  a little  formality  before  we  were 
fairly  out  of  Egypt.  For  months  there  had  been  almost  a 
panic  in  the  East,  from  dread  of  the  approach  of  cholera. 
It  had  broken  out  in  Mecca,  where  it  was  reported  that 
hundreds  were  dying  daily,  and  from  which  returning  pil- 
grims had  so  often  brought  the  cholera  or  the  plague  into 
Western  Asia,  and  so  into  Europe.  A strict  police  had 
been  kept  up  on  all  the  lines  of  approach,  and  thousands 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


45 


of  pilgrims  were  compelled  to  halt  in  tlieir  march  till  the 
danger  of  contagion  was  passed.  This  cordon  sanitaire  was 
still  rigidly  maintained  even  when  there  seemed  to  he  no 
necessity  for  it.  The  alarm  was  over,  and  yet  more  than 
a dozen  great  steamships  were  still  lying  off  the  harbor, 
detained  in  quarantine  a week  before  they  could  land  their 
passengers,  lest  they  should  bring  cholera  from  India  or 
some  other  part  of  Asia.  As  this  was  no  longer  necessary, 
it  seemed  a cruel  hardship  that  Europeans,  returning  from 
the  East,  when  their  voyage  was  over  and  they  were  in 
sight  of  land,  should  be  detained  a whole  week  before  they 
could  set  foot  on  shore.  Even  we,  poor  innocents,  although 
we  did  not  come  from  Mecca,  but  were  rather  going  to- 
wards it,  yet  had  to  stop  at  the  quarantine  to  be  inspected, 
lest  we  should  carry  infection  among  the  beggarly  Arabs. 
However,  they  did  not  detain  us  long,  and  taking  on  board 
a black  soldier,  who  had  some  badge  of  office  round  his 
neck,  and  whose  presence  gave  us  permission  to  land  on 
the  other  side,  we  bore  away.  Never  did  a fairer  morning 
shine  on  land  or  sea.  As  we  receded  from  Suez,  we  had  a 
fuller  view  of  the  mountains  of  Attaka,  which  form  a back- 
ground behind  it  ; and  very  grand  they  were,  with  their 
sharp  peaks  rising  against  the  sky,  and  their  sides  seamed 
and  scarred  with  the  storms  of  thousands  of  years.  As 
they  are  of  a dark-brown-red  color,  one  can  hardly  resist 
the  impression  that  they  gave  name  to  the  Ked  Sea,  al- 
though it  is  more  commonly  supposed  to  be  derived  from 
the  red  coral  which  is  so  abundant  in  its  waters.  This 
bold  and  rugged  coast  of  Africa  is  in  striking  contrast 
with  that  of  Asia,  which  is  all  sand  and  desert.  As  we 
sailed  across  from  one  to  the  other,  it  seemed  as  if  here 
was  the  natural  place  for  the  passage  of  the  Israelites  ; as 
if  they  must  have  been  “ shut  in  ” by  the  mountains  be- 
hind us,  and  crossed  here  at  the  narrowest  part  of  the 


46 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


sea.  In  such  musings  we  skimmed  the  still  waters  of  the 
Gulf.  As  we  approached  the  other  side,  we  found  the 
shore  covered  with  tents,  which  were  for  the  coast-guard 
that  had  been  kept  here  for  months  to  detain  caravans  of 
pilgrims  coming  from  Mecca.  At  ten  o’clock  the  boat 
touched  a long  stone  pier  that  stretched  out  from  the  land, 
and  we  sprang  ashore,  and  were  on  the  soil  of  Asia.  Here 
our  camels  were  waiting  for  us.  But  we  did  not  wait  for 
them,  but  leaving  them  to  load  up  the  baggage,  started  off 
in  advance,  eager  for  our  first  walk  on  the  desert.  The 
fresh,  pure  air  put  new  life  into  us,  and  we  strode  ahead  in 
high  spirits,  although  here  and  there  the  skeletons  of  cam- 
els that  lay  bleaching  in  the  sun  warned  us  that  a desert 
journey  was  not  without  its  dangers. 

At  the  distance  of  a mile  or  two  we  came  to  the  Wells 
of  Moses,  where  there  are  a number  of  springs  and  palm- 
trees.  The  place  may  well  bear  the  name  of  Moses  : for  as 
it  is  the  first  oasis  on  the  desert,  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  he  camped  here  after  his  passage  of  the  Red  Sea, 
and  here  perhaps  Miriam  sang  her  song  of  triumph. 

These  Fountains  of  Moses  might  be  made  a very  pretty 
spot.  But  like  everything  which  the  Arabs  touch,  the  place 
is  neglected  and  dirty.  Green  slime  collects  on  the  pools 
of  water,  yet  underneath  the  springs  bubble  up  as  fresh 
as  they  did  three  thousand  years  ago,  and  with  a little 
effort  the  surface  might  be  kept  clear,  and  the  water  be 
always  sweet  and  pure.  Even  as  it  is,  the  pahn-trees  grow 
luxuriantly,  the  very  sight  of  which,  and  of  the  pools  of 
water,  must  be  grateful  to  those  coming  from  the  desert. 
We  were  in  a glow  with  our  walk,  and  found  it  very  pleas- 
ant to  rest  under  the  shade,  and  enjoy  the  coolness,  as  a 
gentle  wind  was  stirring  the  palms  above  our  heads.  Gen- 
erally parties  camp  here  for  the  first  night,  and  start  fresh 
in  the  morning.  But  we  had  a day’s  work  before  us,  and 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


47 


now  sprang  up  as  we  saw  our  train  approaching.  It  halted 
in  front  of  us,  and  the  camels  knelt  down  in  the  soft,  warm 
sand  for  us  to  mount,  and  when  they  rose  up,  we  were 
fairly  launched  on  the  desert. 

To  the  left  is  a chain  of  low  hills,  which  forms  part  of 
the  escarpment,  bounding  like  a wall  the  vast  upland  of 
the  Great  and  Terrible  Wilderness,  which  we  were  after- 
wards to  traverse,  and  which  we  found  to  be  indeed  a 
land  of  desolation.  Between  these  hills  and  the  Red  Sea 
stretches  the  desert,  into  which  the  traveller  plunges  as 
soon  as  he  leaves  the  Wells  of  Moses.  There  is  no  grad- 
ual approach,  by  which  he  may  get  accustomed  to  his  new 
experience.  As  the  sailor  puts  out  from  the  land  into  the 
open  sea,  so  the  traveller  is  instantly  at  sea  in  the  billowy 
ocean  of  sand.  And  how  did  it  seem — this  first  dash  into 
the  desert  ? The  first  sensations  were  of  glare  and  heat. 
The  heat  was  melting,  the  glare  was  blinding.  The  sun 
beat  down  upon  us  as  in  mid-summer.  Turn  which  way 
I would,  the  sky  above  was  brass,  and  the  earth  be- 
neath a fiery  furnace.  Even  the  sight  of  the  sea  gave  no 
suggestion  of  coolness,  but  rather  the  contrary,  as  it  shim- 
mered under  the  blazing  sun,  which  seemed  as  if  it  would 
lick  up  all  the  waters  of  the  earth.  As  we  sweltered  on 
over  the  sands,  I thought,  How  little  do  those  who  “ live  at 
home  at  ease  ” know  of  the  “ delights  ” of  foreign  travel ! 
After  an  hour  or  two,  it  began  to  grow  rather  monotonous  ; 
and  fearing  lest  I should  dissolve,  if  this  heat  continued  all 
the  afternoon,  I turned  meekly  to  the  dragoman,  and  asked 
“ Yohanna,  how  long  are  we  to  have  this  sort  of  thing  ? ” 
“ Thirty  days,”  was  the  answer.  I dropped  the  subject. 

As  some  travellers  who  follow  us  may  be  as  ignorant  or 
as  thoughtless  as  I was,  perhaps  it  may  be  of  service  to 
tell  how  I learned  by  experience  to  guard  myself  against 
these  two  exposures  and  dangers  of  the  desert.  To  pro- 


48 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


tect  my  eyes,  I had  provided  myself  in  Cairo  with  goggles, 
which  I immediately  mounted,  and  which  for  a time  af- 
forded great  relief  : a sudden  shadow  fell  on  the  landscape, 
as  if  a welcome  cloud  had  intercepted  the  rays  of  the  sun  ; 
all  things  took  another  hue  ; the  yellow  sand  put  on  a pur- 
ple tint  that  was  grateful.  But  after  an  hour  or  two,  I 
found  that  the  blue  glasses,  while  they  shut  out  the  glare, 
also  shut  out  the  view  of  the  desert ; and  as  I wished  to 
see  it  in  all  its  savage  nakedness,  I uncovered  my  eyes. 
As  a partial  protection,  I had  purchased  in  Cairo  a pith 
hat,  or  helmet,  such  as  is  commonly  worn  in  India,  which 
is  perforated  to  furnish  ventilation  for  the  head,  and  which 
projects  in  front  so  as  to  afford  a partial  screen  for  the 
eyes.  At  Mount  Sinai  I bought  of  a monk  a straw  hat  of 
immense  brim,  such  as  I had  never  seen  worn  except  by 
Chinamen  in  the  East.  It  seemed  to  be  modelled  after  the 
top  story  of  a pagoda,  and  settled  on  my  head  like  an  ex- 
tinguisher. It  was  very  good  on  the  desert  except  as  the 
wind  blew,  when  it  took  the  breeze  like  a sail  or  a para- 
chute. After  many  experiments,  I came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  best  protection  against  both  the  blinding  glare 
and  the  withering  heat,  was  the  Indian  helmet,  supplement- 
ed by  a broad,  generous  umbrella.  The  latter  should  be 
specially  constructed  for  the  purpose — double-lined,  and 
with  a long,  stout  handle  that  can  be  lashed  to  the  pommel 
of  the  saddle.  With  these  two  protections  combined,  one 
may  feel  that  he  has  a double  awning  on  the  upper  deck, 
and  will  hardly  be  in  danger  of  ophthalmia  or  sunstroke. 
And  yet  let  the  traveller  do  what  he  will,  there  are  certain 
stubborn  realities  that  are  here,  and  that  cannot  be  chang- 
ed : the  fierce  sun  is  over  his  head,  and  the  burning  sand  is 
under  his  feet  ; and  after  all  precautions,  he  will  find  it 
necessaiy  to  offer  the  prayer  that  the  sun  may  not  strike 
him  by  day,  nor  the  moon  by  night. 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


49 


Added  to  the  stifling  heat,  we  began  to  feel  the  craving 
of  hunger,  for  we  had  taken  our  breakfast  at  Suez  at  an 
early  hour.  It  was  now  time  for  lunch,  and  I looked  about 
for  some  quiet,  shady  spot,  where  we  could  find  shelter 
from  the  noontide  heat.  How  welcome  would  be  one  of 
our  Stockbridge  elms,  and  how  gladly  would  we  lie  down 
under  its  grateful  shade  ! But  in  all  the  horizon  there 
was  not  a tree  to  be  seen— not  a solitary  palm,  nor  even 
a juniper  bush,  under  which  we  might  crouch,  like  Elijah. 
"Weary  with  the  hopeless  search,  at  last  we  halted  right  in 
the  midst  of  the  desert,  “ squatting  ” on  the  sands,  with  no 
other  shade  but  that  of  an  umbrella.  But  we  made  the 
best  of  it.  The  dragoman  spread  out  his  Persian  rugs, 
and  proudly  displayed  the  resources  of  civilization,  as  he 
brought  out  tin  plates  and  knives  and  forks,  and  gave  us  a 
roasted  chicken  and  pressed  beef,  with  bread  and  oranges 
and  figs.  We  rose  up  grateful  as  for  a feast,  mounted  our 
camels,  and  resumed  our  march.  From  that  moment  we 
took  a new  view  of  life,  looking  on  the  bright  side  of  the 
desert.  We  found  that  while  the  heat  was  intense,  the  air 
was  of  such  exquisite  purity  that  we  drew  in  deep  inhala- 
tions. We  breathed  though  we  burned,  and  each  breath 
seemed  to  renew  our  strength.  In  such  an  atmosphere  one 
can  see  to  a great  distance.  We  had  in  full  view  the  chain 
of  mountains  on  the  other  side  of  the  Red  Sea.  We  even 
grew  reconciled  to  the  everlasting  sand,  which,  though 
burning  to  the  touch  under  the  midday  sun,  was  yet  so 
clean  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  had  never  been  stained  by 
blood  or  tears.  So  pure  and  undefiled  was  it  that  we  won- 
dered not  that  in  the  absence  of  water  it  is  sometimes  used 
for  the  sacrament  of  baptism,  and  that  the  Arabs  use  it  for 
their  washings  before  prayer.  Our  dragoman  put  it  to  a 
more  homely  service  : he  washed  his  dishes  in  the  sand, 
whereby  they  were  not  only  cleansed,  but  scoured. 


50 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OX  THE  DESERT. 


And  now  as  we  are  fully  “ at  sea,”  it  is  time  to  speak  of 
tlie  “ skip  ” tkat  carries  us.  To-day  began  my  first  experi- 
ence of  camel-riding,  of  wkick  I kad  keard  suck  fearful 
descriptions,  and  wkick  is  to  many  tke  great  terror  of 
tke  desert.  An  Englisk  writer,  tke  late  Albert  Smitk,  de- 
scribes tke  sensation  to  be  like  tkat  wkick  one  would 
experience  in  riding  on  a piano-stool  tkat  was  mounted 
on  tke  top  of  a Hansom  cab,  and  driven  over  plowed 
ground ! Friends  kad  told  me  tkat  my  back  would  be 
broken,  and  for  tke  first  kour  or  two  I almost  expected  to 
hear  tke  bones  crack.  Yet  strange  to  say,  I lived  through 
it,  and  “ still  live  ” after  a month’s  experience  of  tke  same 
kind,  and  find  camel-riding  not  at  all  unpleasant.  It  is  a 
long,  swinging  motion,  and  one  needs  to  get  limbered  up  to 
it.  Tke  spine  must  be  made  flexible — not  a bad  thing  for 
a man  who  is  by  nature  stiff-backed.  Indeed  I am  pre- 
pared to  take  up  tke  defence  of  tke  camel  as  a muck- 
abused  and  long-suffering  beast.  True,  I cannot  boast  of 
kis  looks  or  of  kis  temper.  He  has  no  beauty,  like  tke 
horse,  with  smooth,  round  body,  arched  neck,  and  clean 
limbs.  Tke  only  pretty  feature  of  a camel  is  kis  ears, 
wkick,  instead  of  being  long  like  a donkey’s,  are  small  like 
those  of  a mouse.  But  kis  general  features  are  ungainly  : 
he  seems  to  be  all  back  and  legs.  These  are  not  graceful 
proportions.  Nor  is  the  absence  of  physical  perfection 
compensated  by  kis  moral  qualities,  so  tkat  we  can  say 
“ handsome  is  tkat  handsome  does,”  for  tke  camel  is  not 
an  amiable  beast.  He  is  always  groaning  and  complaining, 
and  has  a growl  kke  a kon. 

But  in  spite  of  all  defects  of  temper,  he  has  some  nota- 
ble virtues.  Though  he  has  not  tke  speed  of  tke  horse, 
yet  when  it  comes  to  the  heavy  work  of  carrying  burdens, 
he  leaves  tke  horse  far  behind.  Muck  as  camels  growl 
when  you  are  loading  them,  yet  when  tke  burden  is 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


51 


placed  upon  them,  though  they  will  not  skip  off  like  a 
prancing  steed,  they  will  rise  up  and  carry  it  all  day  long. 
In  this  they  are  like  some  Christians,  who  are  always 
grumbling,  but  who,  when  it  comes  to  the  pinch,  rise  up 
under  their  loads,  and  bear  them  manfully  ; while  others, 
who  are  smooth  and  plausible  and  full  of  promises,  man- 
age to  evade  every  irksome  duty.  But  as  to  riding  this 
beast  of  burden,  one  might  well  hesitate.  The  first  glance 
is  not  assuring.  When  you  take  your  stand  beside  the  huge 
creature,  whose  hump  towers  quite  above  your  head,  and 
think  of  climbing  such  a height,  it  seems  like  climbing  a 
haystack.  But  you  do  not  have  to  climb  up  to  him  : he 
kneels  down  to  you.  The  only  trouble  is  in  mounting. 
Here  there  are  three  separate  motions,  which  may  be  de- 
scribed as  a kind  of  “ double  back-action,”  or  a double 
forward-action.  The  camel  is  lying  on  the  ground,  his 
long  legs  all  under  him,  and  they  have  to  be  taken  out  by 
instalments.  The  rider  mounts,  and  the  beast  begins  to 
rise.  First  he  rises  to  his  foreknees.  This  tips  the  rider 
back  to  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  Then  his  long 
hindlegs  begin  to  move  under  him,  and  as  he  rises,  not  to 
the  knees,  but  to  the  full  height,  the  rider  has  a violent 
pitch  forward.  Then  the  forelegs  are  set  in  motion  again, 
by  which  the  camel  lises  from  his  knees  to  his  proper  level, 
and  the  rider  is  in  the  saddle.* 

* Dr.  Post,  who  looks  at  the  camel  with  the  eye  of  an  anato- 
mist, describes  his  rising  up  on  his  feet  more  scientifically,  as 
follows:  “ It  is  divided  into  three  stages:  1st,  A backward  un- 
dulation, by  which  the  hindquarters  receive  the  weight  of  the 
trunk,  while  he  disengages  his  left  foreleg,  and  advances  it  bent 
at  the  left  foreknee.  2d,  A strong  forward  lunge  as  he  raises 
both  hindquarters  together  to  their  full  height;  it  is  this  lunge 
which  surprises  the  inexperienced  rider  by  the  punch  in  tho 
back  and  the  forward  fling.  3d,  The  left  foreleg  is  now  straight- 
ened fully,  thus  raising  the  forequarters  to  their  natural  level; 


52 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


Once  seated,  the  posture  is  very  easy.  Indeed  one  can 
ride  in  any  posture — astride,  as  men  ride,  or  sidewise,  as 
ladies  ride — and  with  this  advantage,  that  one  can  turn 
either  way,  to  the  right  or  the  left.  When  Dr.  Post  and  I 
were  riding  side  by  side,  we  often  turned  so  as  to  face 
each  other,  and  thus  had  many  a pleasant  conversation  as 
we  moved  slowly  along.  Sometimes  the  Doctor,  who  wras 
an  expert  in  such  gymnastics,  swung  clear  round  toward 
the  tail,  and  so  watched  the  caravan  as  it  came  lumbering 
along  behind  us.  The  favorite  posture  of  the  Arab  is 
with  his  legs  crossed  on  the  camel’s  neck.  To  this  one 
easily  gets  accustomed.  I sat  thus  for  horn’s,  with  folded 
arms  and  folded  legs — the  picture  of  a philosopher.  It 
is  a great  advantage  in  riding  that  the  camel  does  not 
need  to  be  guided.  He  has  no  bridle,  but  only  a hal- 
ter around  his  nose,  by  which  he  is  led.  To  each  animal 
there  is  a cameleer,  who,  if  need  be,  will  go  before  and 
lead  him.  But  I soon  found  this  to  be  unnecessary, 
since  camels,  left  to  themselves,  will  follow  each  other  in 
Indian  file,  and  seldom  get  out  of  the  way.  Thus  mov- 
ing on  with  slow  and  steady  step,  a camel’s  back  is  a 
good  place  for  reading  or  meditation.  As  one  has  no 
use  for  his  hands  in  guiding,  he  can  hold  a book  or 
a letter.  As  I could  get  no  new  letters  on  the  desert, 
I read  over  my  old  ones  again  and  again.  Here  too 
one  can  find  scope  for  endless  reveries.  In  a caravan 
one  is  often  left  to  himself.  His  companions  may  push 
ahead,  or  drop  in  the  rear,  so  that  the  line  of  march  is 

he  assists  himself  in  this  motion  by  steadying  himself  on  his 
right  wrist  until  he  is  nearly  erect,  when  he  flings  the  right  fore- 
foot into  position  in  the  act  of  straightening  the  other  leg.  The 
act  of  kneeling  reverses  these  motions,  except  that  he  drops 
upon  both  foreknees  at  once,  giving  something  of  a jar  to  the 
rider.” 


THE  FIRST  DAY  ON  THE  DESERT. 


53 


long  drawn  out,  and  each  one  finds  himself  alone.  At 
such  times  I used  to  cross  my  legs,  and  throwing  the  hal- 
ter over  th  neck  of  my  poor  dromedary,  let  her  stray 
along  at  her  wn  will,  now  stopping  to  crop  the  scanty 
herbage,  and  now  moving  on  with  measured  step.  Thus 
“rocked,”  as  it  were,  “in  the  cradle  of  the  deep,”  who 
could  but  give  way  to  his  quiet  musings  ? Especially 
did  this  mood  come  upon  us  at  the  approach  of  evening. 
Isaac  went  forth  to  meditate  at  eventide,  and  few  are  not 
more  or  less  touched  with  the  sweet  influences  of  the  scene 
and  the  horn-.  Conversation  drooped  with  the  falling  of 
the  day,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  we  rode  on  in  silence. 
As  the  sun  sank  lower  on  tli9  Egyptian  hills,  the  air 
grew  cooler,  and  then  came  the  beauty  of  the  desert. 
The  sun  went  down  in  glory.  Turning  on  our  camels, 
we  watched  the  dying  day  as  it  lingered  long  on  the 
waters  of  the  Red  Sea  and  on  the  tops  of  the  distant  moun- 
tains. Then  shot  up  something  like  an  aurora,  or  the  after- 
glow on  the  Nile.  The  scene  was  so  beautiful  that  we 
should  have  stopped  to  gaze  upon  it  but  that  we  were 
growing  anxious  about  our  course.  The  baggage  train 
had  gone  ahead  to  pitch  the  camp,  but  where  was  it? 
We  looked  eagerly  for  the  white  tents,  but  saw  none.  The 
last  gleam  of  twilight  faded  into  night,  and  the  moon, 
nearly  full,  rose  over  the  desert,  and  all  things  looked 
weird  by  its  light.  But  the  distance  seemed  longer  and 
longer.  By-and-by  it  flashed  upon  us  that  the  old  sheikh 
who  was  leading  us  had  lost  his  way.  There  was  not  a 
track  of  any  kind.  For  half  an  hour  we  were  i:i  a good 
deal  of  anxiety,  for  we  might  have  to  spend  the  night  under 
the  open  sky.  The  Arabs  raced  the  camels  across  the 
fields,  and  we  shouted  at  the  top  of  our  voices.  At  length, 
to  our  great  relief,  we  heard  an  answer,  and  in  a few  min- 
utes saw  the  lights  of  our  tent3.  It  was  half-past  seven 


54 


THE  FIRST  DAY  OX  THE  DESERT. 


when  we  came  into  camp.  Our  men  had  "been  as  anxious 
about  us  as  we  were  about  them.  We  found  dinner  await- 
ing us,  after  which  we  strolled  out  to  call  up^n  our  neigh- 
bors : for  another  American  party,  fromPPhiladelphia, 
which  had  left  the  Wells  of  Moses  in  the  morning,  was 
camped  near  us.  Indeed  we  camped  side  by  side  every 
night  but  one  till  we  reached  Mount  Sinai.  Taking  the 
two  parties  together,  there  were  twenty-seven  camels,  and 
about  the  same,  or  a larger,  number  of  men.  It  was  a 
picturesque  sight  to  see  the  huge  creatures  stretched  upon 
the  ground,  and  the  Arabs  about  their  camp-fires  cooking 
their  food.  All  round  us  the  sand  glistened  in  the  moon- 
light, white  as  the  driven  snow.  In  such  a scene  of  peace, 
we  lay  down  in  our  tents  to  sleep  the  first  night  on  the 
desert. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


MARAH,  ELIM,  AND  THE  CAMP  BY  THE  RED  SEA. 

It  needs  no  blast  of  a trumpet  to  waken  tlie  traveller 
on  tbe  desert.  Even  the  heaviest  sleeper  must  open  bis 
eyes  when  tbe  sun,  rising  over  tbe  level  waste,  as  over  tbe 
sea,  strikes  on  tbe  white  tents.  But  we  bad  another  morn- 
ing summons  to  tell  us  when  it  was  day.  In  tbe  provision- 
ing of  our  camp,  our  dragoman  bad  laid  in  a large  supply 
of  poultry.  A spacious  liencoop,  which  crowned  like  a 
tower  tbe  bump  of  one  of  our  camels,  earned  a flock  of 
chickens  and  pigeons,  which  were  let  out  at  night  to  pick 
up  tbe  meal  that  was  thrown  to  them  on  tbe  sand,  and 
made  a pretty  home  picture  as  they  cackled  about,  after 
which,  with  true  domestic  instinct,  they  went  to  roost  on 
the  top  of  the  coop,  giving  to  our  camp  a little  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  a farmyard.  With  these  more  quiet  fowls 
were  a couple  of  roosters  that  did  all  the  crowing  for  us 
that  was  necessary,  and  never  forgot  to  waken  us  early  in 
the  morning.  We  were  sure  of  having  “the  cock’s  shrill 
clarion,”  if  we  had  not  “ the  echoing  horn,”  to  “ rouse  us 
from  our  lowly  beds.”  Nor  was  it  a bad  thing  to  be 
roused,  as  the  morning  is  the  time  to  march.  A wise  trav- 
eller will  always  start  early,  even  if  he  has  to  take  several 
hours  of  rest  at  noon.  On  the  desert,  if  nowhere  else, 
“ the  morning  and  the  evening  ” are  “ the  day.” 

Soon  after  sunrise  all  hands  were  astir.  The  breaking 
up  of  camp  is  always  an  animated  scene,  and  few  sights 
are  prettier  than  the  striking  of  the  tents.  But  when  it 


56 


MARAH,  ELIM,  AND 


comes  to  loading  up  tlie  camels,  the  scene  is  not  only  ani- 
mated, but  sometimes  too  much  so.  The  Arabs  are  an 
excitable  race,  and  the  cameleer  who  finds  that  his  beast 
is  overloaded  in  the  distribution  of  the  burdens  of  the 
march,  is  apt  to  give  utterance  to  his  wrath  in  loud  words 
and  fierce  gesticulations.  This  morning  I was  startled  at 
hearing  the  voices  of  the  men  ; they  fairly  shrieked  with 
anger — I have  no  doubt  they  swore  by  the  Prophet,  but 
as  I did  not  understand  Arabic,  I was  happily  spared  their 
imprecations — and  I thought  they  were  coming  to  blows, 
and  that  we  should  have  a battle  of  the  Bedaween.  But 
if  this  were  like  a thunderclap,  it  was  not  followed  by 
much  of  a shower.  After  a few  minutes  of  this  war  of 
words,  they  relapsed  into  silence,  and  went  quietly  to  work 
loading  up  their  camels,  and  marched  off  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  This  first  experience  was  of  use  to  me  after- 
wards, and  when  I heard  the  loud  voices  of  the  men,  I 
paid  no  more  attention  to  them  than  to  the  growling  of 
the  camels. 

In  the  order  of  march,  my  companion  and  I always 
started  in  advance,  and  started  on  foot.  For  this  there 
was  a double  reason.  The  hour  of  sunrise  was  so  inspir- 
ing that  we  were  eager  to  be  abroad.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
sun  was  not  merely  new  risen  on  the  world,  but  risen  on  a 
new  world.  Old  things  had  passed  away  with  the  shadows 
of  the  night,  and  all  things  had  become  new.  The  exqui- 
site purity  of  the  atmosphere  made  it  a luxury  to  breathe, 
and  we  could  not  wait  a moment  in  camp  when  we  were 
ready  for  a walk  on  the  desert.  Besides  this,  Dr.  Post  had 
a special  motive  to  quicken  his  steps.  He  is  an  enthusias- 
tic botanist,  and  has  already  collected  twelve  thousand  spe- 
cies of  plants,  which  he  has  in  the  Museum  of  the  College 
at  Beirut,  and  one  object  he  had  in  accompanying  me  to 
Mount  Sinai  was  to  make  a collection  of  the  Flora  of  the 


THE  CAMP  BY  TIIE  RED  SEA. 


57 


Desert.  It  seemed  a strange  place  in  which  to  look  for 
flowers.  But  he  proved  by  observation  that  what  is  so 
beautiful  in  poetry  is  true  in  fact  ; that 

“ Full  many  a flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 

And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air.” 

In  one  month  on  the  desert  he  collected  over  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  species  of  plants,  most  of  which  were  un- 
known in  Syria. 

We  had  not  gone  far  when  we  descried  in  the  distance 
a caravan  approaching.  What  could  it  be  ? Pilgrims  from 
Mecca  ? But  this  was  not  the  road  to  Mecca.  As  we  drew 
nearer,  it  proved  to  be  a company  of  Bussian  pilgrims  re- 
turning from  Mount  Sinai — thirty-two  of  them,  of  whom 
only  two  were  men.  The  greater  number  of  women  sug- 
gested that  it  was  perhaps  in  performance  of  a vow  that 
they  had  made  a pilgrimage  to  the  Convent  of  St.  Catherine, 
which  is  a favorite  shrine  with  the  Bussian  peasants.  Bec- 
ognizing  in  us  pilgrims  bound  to  the  same  destination, 
they  looked  down  upon  us  from  the  height  of  their  camels 
with  smiles  of  pleasure,  and  kept  bowing  and  smiling  till 
their  camels  had  borne  them  past,  and  they  quickly  dis- 
appeared on  the  horizon  of  the  desert. 

These  pilgrims  were  followed  by  a company  of  Beda- 
ween,  bound  in  the  same  direction,  but  on  an  errand  of 
business  instead  of  a pilgrimage  of  devotion.  Bestriding 
their  camels  were  huge  sacks  laden  with  charcoal,  which 
the  Arabs  make  from  the  few  shrubs  or  stunted  trees  which 
they  find  in  the  mountains,  and  which  form  almost  the  only 
article  which  they  can  produce,  for  which  they  can  obtain 
money,  or  anything  which  must  be  bought  with  money. 

. They  were  now  bound  for  Suez  to  sell  their  charcoal.  To 
go  and  return  would  take  them  a week’s  time,  and  as  the 
fruit  of  their  journey  and  their  labor,  a camel’s  load  would 
bring  perhaps  twenty  francs,  with  which  they  would  pur- 


58 


MARAH,  ELIM,  AND 


chase  probably  a sack  of  grain  for  their  families,  and  a few 
ounces  of  tobacco  for  themselves. 

After  these  two  encounters,  we  saw  no  man  that  day. 
We  marched  on  quite  alone,  and  began  to  feel  more  and 
more  the  loneliness  of  the  desert.  Not  only  was  there  no 
man  in  sight,  but  not  a living  thing.  The  utter  absence  of 
life  affected  us  strangely,  as  it  brought  the  sense  not  only 
of  solitude,  but  of  silence.  Even  while  it  was  yet  broad 
day,  there  fell  on  us  a silence  as  of  the  night.  The  earth 
grew  calm  and  still,  as  if  suddenly  the  course  of  nature 
had  stopped,  and  all  things  had  ceased  to  live.  Although 
the  Red  Sea  still  gleamed  in  the  distance,  yet  as  we  moved 
away  from  it,  we  could  no  longer  hear  the  lapping  of  its 
waves  ; and  there  was  no  sign  of  life  on  sea  or  land,  or  in 
the  sky.  Not  a bird  wheeled  in  the  air  ; not  even  an  in- 
sect’s hum  broke  the  stillness  of  the  desert.  Even  nature 
seemed  to  have  hushed  her  voice  ; no  murmuring  brook 
made  music  in  our  ears  ; no  sough  of  the  wind  in  the 
pines  whispered  to  us  in  the  gloaming.  The  only  sound 
that  fell  on  the  ear  was  the  steady  step  of  the  camel  crunch- 
ing through  the  hard  crust ; and  when  we  passed  through 
long  stretches  of  soft  sand,  even  that  seemed  muffled,  as 
the  broad  foot,  soft  and  springy  as  the  tiger’s,  sank  under 
us  almost  without  a sound.  So  oppressive  was  the  still- 
ness that  it  was  a relief  to  hear  the  song  of  the  cameleer, 
though  it  had  little  music  in  it,  for  it  was  always  in  the  minor 
key,  and  low  and  feeble,  as  if  he  trembled  to  hear  the 
sound  of  his  own  voice  in  the  deep  solitude.  It  seemed 
as  if  we  had  gone  out  of  the  world,  and  entered  the  Halls 
of  Eternal  Silence,  and  were  moving  on  into  a mysterious 
realm,  where  the  sound  of  human  voices  would  be  heard 
nevermore. 

In  studying  the  geography  of  the  desert,  the  first  les- 
son to  be  learned  is  to  know  what  is  meant  by  a wady. 


THE  CAMP  BY  THE  RED  SEA. 


59 


Destitute  as  these  broad  stretches  of  barrenness  are  of 
springs,  or  running  brooks,  yet  at  times  they  are  swept 
by  terrific  storms,  when  torrents  dash  down  the  mountain 
side,  and  plow  deep  furrows  in  the  sandy  waste.  The  dry 
beds  which  they  leave  behind  are  wadies.  These  wadies, 
depressed  below  the  level  of  the  surrounding  plain,  are 
the  favorite  places  for  pitching  tents,  as  the  banks  on  either 
side  furnish  a shelter  from  the  winds  that  sweep  over  the 
desert.  Several  of  these  we  crossed  to-day,  in  which  the 
half-dried  mud  showed  that  there  had  been  recent  rains. 
Wherever  the  moisture  had  touched,  there  were  signs  of 
vegetation.  Dr.  Post,  who  is  always  on  the  lookout  for 
such  treasures,  found  twenty  new  species  of  plants  in 
one  day,  which  he  displayed  with  the  delight  of  a discov- 
erer, pointing  out  how  nature  had  provided  sustenance  for 
them  by  furnishing  them  with  thick  leaves  or  long  roots 
or  little  warts,  which  the  microscope  showed  to  be  so 
many  minute  cells  or  sacs  for  water.  Every  traveller  will 
have  his  attention  called  by  his  camel,  if  not  by  his  guide, 
to  a thorny  bush  of  which  the  camel  is  very  fond.  Nor 
will  the  rider,  if  he  be  wise,  urge  on  the  poor  beast  which 
stops  a moment  to  crop  its  leaves,  for  it  is  very  aromatic, 
and  sends  up  a fragrant  smell  into  his  face.  Another 
bush  which  is  common  is  the  juniper — more  properly  the 
“ broom  ” of  the  desert — under  which  we  often  found  a 
shade  for  our  midday  meal. 

Twice  to-day  were  we  reminded  that  we  were  on  the 
track  of  the  Israelites — once  at  Marah,  the  spring  whose 
very  name  tells  of  its  bitterness,  and  which,  however  sweet- 
ened by  Moses,  still  disappoints  the  traveller,  for  indeed  it 
is  almost  dried  up.  We  found  in  it  no  flowing  water  at 
all ; only  digging  in  the  sand,  we  discovered  where  a hidden 
spring  was  oozing  away.  A much  larger  spring,  or  group 
of  springs,  we  found  at  Wady  Ghurundel,  the  Elim  of  the 


60 


MARAH,  ELIM,  AND 


Scriptures,  where  we  camped  for  the  night.  In  these  desert 
marches  it  is  always  an  object  to  pitch  one’s  tent  near  a 
spring.  W e were  indeed  supplied  with  water,  which  we  took 
in  at  Suez,  from  the  Sweet  Water  Canal,  which  brings  it 
from  the  Nile.  From  this  were  filled  the  casks,  which  were 
slung  on  the  backs  of  our  camels.  These  are  so  precious  that 
when  unloaded  for  the  night,  and  set  up  on  end,  they  are 
kept  locked  lest  the  men  should  snatch  forbidden  draughts. 
W ater  for  themselves  they  carry  in  water-skins.  But  though 
we  were  provided  so  as  to  be  in  no  danger  of  dying  by 
thirst,  yet  in  the  desert  there  is  something  refreshing 
even  in  the  sight  of  flowing  water.  How  could  we  fail 
to  camp  at  a spot  where  Moses  had  arrested  his  march 
because  he  found,  as  he  tells  us,  twelve  springs  and  sev- 
enty palm-trees  ? Moses  is  gone,  but  the  springs  are  still 
here.  “ Men  may  come  and  men  may  go,  but  they  flow  on 
forever.”  The  Arab  still  comes  to  find  water  for  himself  and 
his  camels  at  the  same  spring  which  quenched  the  thirst 
of  the  Israelites.  On  the  very  spot  where  the  great 
Hebrew  leader  pitched  his  tent,  we  camped  at  the  end  of 
our  second  day’s  march.  In  the  morning  I went  down  to 
the  springs,  and  found  them  hardly  worthy  of  their  ancient 
fame,  or  of  the  place  which  they  still  hold  in  sacred  poetry, 
where  “ the  shade  of  Elim’s  palm  ” is  the  type  of  almost 
heavenly  rest.  Neither  in  water  nor  in  shade  does  Elim 
approach  the  Wells  of  Moses.  Instead  of  a running  brook 
or  bursting  fountains,  one  finds  only  a sluggish  rivulet  melt- 
ing away  in  the  sand,  with  a few  straggling  palms  along  its 
brink.  Yet  slender  as  it  i3,  and  although  the  water  is  some- 
what brackish,  it  may  be  the  very  water  of  life  on  the  des- 
ert. The  Arabs  came  from  the  camp,  and  filled  their  water- 
skins, which  they  slung  over  their  shoulders,  and  then 
threw  on  the  backs  of  their  camels.  I bent  down  to  the 
stream  to  drink,  and  though  it  was  not  like  putting  my 


THE  CAMP  BY  THE  RED  SEA. 


61 


Kps  to  “ the  moss-covered  bucket  that  hung  in  the  well,” 
still  there  was  a pleasure  in  drinking  of  the  very  springs 
of  which  Moses  drank  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago. 

But  the  traveller  on  the  desert  must  not  linger  by  bub- 
bhng  streams  or  under  palm-trees.  While  we  had  been 
here,  the  camels  had  been  got  ready,  and  we  must  up  and 
away.  To-day’s  march  brought  a change  of  scene,  as  we 
left  behind  the  flat  or  rolling  sandy  plain,  and  entered  into 
a region  more  wild  and  rugged.  We  found  that  this  Penin- 
sula was  not  an  unbroken  plain,  stretching  to  the  base  of 
Sinai,  but  that  “ the  wilderness  ” was  a wilderness  of  moun- 
tains, through  which  one  could  make  his  way  only  by  fol- 
lowing the  wadies  that  wound  about  in  every  direction, 
forming  a perfect  labyrinth,  and  that  sometimes  assumed 
the  character  of  mountain  defiles.  This  afternoon  we  pur- 
sued our  course  along  these  river  beds  till  we  came  into  one 
where  a torrent  in  the  course  of  ages  had  cut  through  suc- 
cessive strata  of  rock,  cleaving  them  to  the  base  of  the 
hills,  and  forming  a gorge  almost  like  a canon  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  This  we  followed  in  all  its  windings 
for  several  hours,  till  suddenly  the  cKffs  opened,  and  be- 
fore us  lay  the  Red  Sea,  beyond  which  was  a range  of 
mountains,  the  line  of  which  was  broken  by  peaks  shooting 
up  here  and  there,  like  the  cliffs  of  Capri,  or  the  islands  of 
the  Greek  Archipelago.  It  was  now  five  o’clock,  and  the 
sun  was  sinking  in  the  west,  so  that  every  point  of  that 
long  serrated  ridge  stood  up  sharp  and  clear  against  the 
sky.  Here  was  a scene  which  no  artist  could  transfer  to 
canvas.  We  had  before  us  at  once  the  mountains  and  the 
sea,  and  mountains  on  both  sides  of  the  sea.  Enchanted 
and  almost  bewildered  by  the  scene,  as  we  came  out 
upon  a wide  stretch  of  beach,  we  dismounted  to  walk,  for 
the  greater  freedom  of  motion,  and  that  we  could  stop 
and  turn  to  every  point  of  the  horizon.  Can  I ever  forget 


62 


MARAH.  ELIM,  AND 


that  heavenly  hour,  and  how  soft  was  the  light  on  the  Afri- 
can mountains ! As  the  sunset  shone  across  the  sea,  it 
lighted  up  also  the  Arabian  hills,  above  which  there  was  a 
soft  violet  tint  in  the  shy,  which  gradually  faded  away,  and 
was  succeeded  by  an  intense  blue,  while  high  up  in  the 
heavens  hung  the  moon,  only  two  days  to  the  full.  Again 
we  mounted  our  camels,  and  rode  on  for  a mile  or  two,  till 
rounding  a point  we  discovered  our  tents  in  a little  cove 
or  inlet  in  the  sandy  hills,  but  a few  rods  from  the  shore. 
The  spot  seemed  made  for  a camp,  as  it  was  sheltered 
from  the  winds,  and  the  sand  was  firm  and  hard,  so  that 
the  tent  floor  was  smooth  and  clean.  Here  Moses  camped 
by  the  Red  Sea,  and  following  the  illustrious  example,  we 
camped,  as  it  were,  on  the  very  shore,  where  in  our  waking 
moments  all  night  long  we  heard  the  waters  as  they  came 
rippling  up  the  beach. 

As  our  camp  was  by  the  sea,  the  temptation  was 
irresistible,  as  we  rose  the  next  morning,  to  take  a bath. 
One  must  have  been  three  days  on  the  desert  to  taste  the 
sweetness  of  such  a dip,  as  he  lies  down  and  lets  the  cool 
waters  ripple  over  him.  So  keen  was  the  pleasure  of  this 
new  experience,  that  when  we  set  out  for  our  morning’s 
tramp,  as  our  way  led  along  the  beach  (indeed  in  one  or 
two  places  the  rocks  were  so  close  that  the  camels  had  to 
step  in  the  water,  and  in  storms  caravans  are  sometimes 
detained  two  or  three  days),  I could  not  resist  the  impulse 
to  walk  for  some  distance  in  the  edge  of  the  sea,  now  and 
then  dashing  out  to  catch  the  foam  of  the  breakers  as  they 
came  rolling  in.  Of  course  it  was  not  a very  prudent  thing 
to  do.  But  nature  will  out.  Boys  will  be  boys,  and  I sup- 
pose an  old  boy  may  have  the  same  privilege  as  a young 
one.  At  the  moment  I felt  “ glorious,”  although  the  Doc- 
tor thought  me  a little  daft.  Looking  at  me  with  his  keen 
medical  eye,  he  warned  me  that  I was  running  a great 


THE  CAMP  BY  THE  RED  SEA. 


G3 


risk.  My  feet  were  soaked  ; my  hob-nailed  shoes,  bought 
in  Cairo  for  mountain  climbing,  were  badly  water-logged  ; 
and  altogether  I was  in  a bedraggled  condition.  But  my 
spirits  were  so  high  that  they  kept  me  from  any  ill  effect  of 
this  rashness.  Mounting  my  camel,  I threw  my  dripping 
legs  over  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  thus  hung  them 
up  to  dry,  leaving  shoes  and  socks  and  trousers  to  take 
care  of  themselves.  I found  the  enthusiasm  of  a march, 
which  keeps  the  blood  almost  at  fever  heat,  better  than 
quinine  to  ward  off  the  danger  of  taking  cold. 

And  now  appeared  in  the  distance  another  welcome 
sight — a couple  of  camels,  with  Arabs  at  their  side,  and 
following  on  foot,  with  gun  in  hand,  a solitary  traveller  • 
Meeting  a traveller  on  the  desert  is  an  event,  like  hailing 
a ship  at  sea.  We  addressed  the  stranger  in  English 
and  French,  and  to  the  latter  he  returned  an  answer. 
He  proved  to  be  an  Italian,  who  had  been  for  months  in 
the  mountains,  searching  for  precious  stones,  and  was  now 
returning  to  Suez.  “ Would  he  take  letters  for  us  ? ” 
“ With  the  greatest  pleasure.”  In  an  instant  down  went 
the  camels,  and  two  travellers  were  standing  beside  them, 
pencil  in  hand,  writing  a few  words  to  those  who  were  far 
away.  A moment  more,  and  the  traveller  was  gone.  We 
did  not  see  him  again,  but  weeks  after  we  learned  that  the 
letters  thus  written  on  the  desert  had  reached  their  desti- 
nations at  Beirut  and  Florence,  and  given  great  relief,  as 
they  carried  the  first  tidings  of  our  safety. 

The  sandy  beach,  which  lies  here  between  the  sea  and  the 
mountains,  broadens  into  a plain,  and  stretches  on  for  some 
miles,  so  that  it  took  us  over  two  hours  to  cross  it.  As 
nowhere  on  the  desert  had  we  found  more  utter  desolation, 
and  nowhere  did  the  sun  blaze  down  with  a fiercer  heat,  I 
am  afraid  some  of  my  countrymen,  passing  over  the  “ burn- 
ing marl,”  have  found  that,  in  the  temptations  it  offered  to 


64 


CAMP  BY  THE  BED  SEA. 


cursing,  there  was  a special  appropriateness  in  the  name  it 
hears  of  the  "Wilderness  of  Sin  ! From  this  withering  heat 
we  found  no  refuge  till  we  were  once  more  in  the  gorges  of 
the  mountains,  under  the  shelter  of  the  overhanging  cliffs. 
The  day  before  we  had  come  out  of  the  mountains,  and 
now  our  course  led  back  into  them.  Turning  to  take  a last 
look  at  the  Bed  Sea  (which  we  should  not  see  again  except 
at  a great  distance,  from  the  top  of  Serbal  and  of  Sinai), 
we  entered  a narrow  pass  called  the  Throat  of  the  Morsel, 
which  opened  a way  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains, 
that  grew  more  wild  and  grand  as  we  advanced.  Often 
we  seemed  to  be  shut  in  by  walls,  and  had  to  come  up 
to  their  very  base  before  they  opened  their  iron  gates 
for  us  to  pass  through.  The  geological  structure  of  the 
country  had  changed.  We  had  been  in  a region  of  lime- 
stone, where  the  mountains  were  almost  as  white  and  glar- 
ing as  the  sand  of  the  desert ; but  now  the  eye  rested, 
with  a sensation  of  relief,  on  huge  masses  of  old  red  sand- 
stone, the  effect  of  whose  rich  colors  was  heightened  by 
the  outline  of  the  cliffs  and  crags,  which  took  on  all  fan- 
tastic shapes,  looking  like  old  castles  and  towers.  One  can 
imagine  how  they  stand  out  against  the  sky  when  the  sun- 
set strikes  upon  them.  We  pitched  our  tents  in  a little 
valley  that  was  set  in  an  amphitheatre  of  mountains. 
Hard  by  we  scaled  the  cliffs  to  penetrate  the  old  tur- 
quoise mines  of  Maghara,  that  were  worked  in  the  time 
of  the  Pharaohs.  The  rocks  still  bear  inscriptions  graven 
upon  them  in  one  of  the  earlier  dynasties.  These  take  us 
f far  back  in  the  ages,  but  the  impression  they  give  of  long 
tracts  of  time  is  quite  effaced  by  the  mountains  them- 
selves. Our  camp  was  at  the  foot  of  a peak  which  was 
one  solid  mass  of  old  red  sandstone,  compared  to  the  age 
of  which  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt  are  but  of  yesterday. 


CHAPTER  V. 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 

In  the  course  of  our  marches,  we  had  now  come  to  the 
last  day  of  the  week,  and  set  out  this  morning  with  buoy- 
ant spirits,  inspired  by  the  hope  of  a day  of  rest  on  the 
morrow.  As  if  to  make  us  prize  it  the  more,  Saturday 
was  a day  of  unusual  fatigue.  Starting  at  seven  o’clock, 
we  walked  for  an  hour,  when  the  camels  came  up,  and  we 
mounted  and  rode  four  hours  under  a blazing  sun.  We 
found  the  heat  as  great  in  these  wadies  as  on  the  open 
desert.  They  are  so  wide  that  except  where  the  moun- 
tains rise  in  abrupt  cliffs,  it  is  not  easy  to  get  under  their 
shadow  ; while  the  sun’s  rays  are  reflected  from  their 
sides,  and  poured  into  the  valley  below,  which  glows  like 
a furnace.  However,  we  bore  it  like  martyrs.  Indeed  we 
should  have  been  ashamed  to  complain,  mounted  as  we 
were,  while  our  poor  Arabs  trudged  along  by  our  side, 
their  naked  feet  sinking  in  the  burning  sand.  We  looked 
down  on  them  with  pity  ; but  they  did  not  seem  to  be  in 
need  of  pity,  for  they  were  chattering  like  monkeys,  and 
laughing  all  the  way,  while  we  were  as  glum  as  our  cam- 
els. This  lightness  of  heart  is  the  compensation  which 
nature  sometimes  gives  to  weaker  races,  to  enable  them  to 
bear  the  hardships  of  their  lot.  If  these  poor  creatures 
could  but  see  themselves  as  others  see  them,  half  naked 
and  half  starved,  they  would  lie  down  on  the  desert  and 
die  ; but  a happy  oblivion  of  their  miserable  condition 
makes  them  take  life  as  cheerfully  as  the  rest  of  us.  The 


66 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


contrast  of  their  mirth  with  our  grim  silence  and  dogged 
endurance,  set  me  to  thinking  about  these  strange  children 
of  the  desert.  Ever  since  we  left  Suez,  I had  been  making 
observations  not  only  on  the  country,  but  on  the  people. 
While  keeping  one  eye  on  the  horizon,  taking  in  the  gen- 
eral features  of  the  landscape,  with  the  other  I had  been 
quietly  observing  our  motley  company.  Except  the  drag- 
oman and  the  cook,  our  only  companions  are  Bedaween. 
They  are  our  guides  by  day  and  our  guards  at  night. 
What  sort  of  men  are  these  to  whom  we  commit  our 
safety?  Certainly  as  guides  we  could  desire  no  better. 
The  Arab  knows  the  desert  as  the  Indian  knows  the  for- 
est. Indeed  he  is  made  for  the  desert  as  truly  as  the 
camel.  His  very  physique  fits  him  for  long  marches.  His 
body  is  light  and  his  step  is  springy,  yet  he  has  not  even 
shoes  on  his  feet.  The  sole  protection  to  the  foot  when 
going  over  the  fiery  sands,  or  even  jagged  rocks,  is  a pair 
of  sandals  so  thin  that  I wondered  how  he  could  keep 
them  on.  Yet  thus  shod,  or  even  with  bare  feet,  he  will 
spring  up  the  rocks  like  a goat,  or  climb  to  the  top  of  the 
highest  mountain.  It  is  true  he  goes  in  very  light  march- 
ing order.  His  limbs  are  naked,  and  he  carries  not  an 
ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  on  his  bones.  In  all  my  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Bedaween,  I never  saw  one  who  was 
fat  like  a negro.  His  only  garments  are  a cotton  shirt, 
and  a sort  of  overall  of  coarse  hair-cloth  which  serves  the 
double  purpose  of  a cloak  by  day  and  a coverlid  by  night.* 

* Customs  do  not  change  on  the  desert  in  thousands  of  years. 
The  Israelites  were  as  poorly  clad  as  our  Arabs,  their  one  gar- 
ment sufficing  for  both  day  and  night.  Hence  the  significance 
as  well  as  humanity  of  the  law  of  Moses  (Exodus  xxii.  26,  27) : 
“ If  thou  at  all  take  thy  neighbor’s  raiment  to  pledge,  thou  shalt 
deliver  it  unto  him  by  that  the  sun  goeth  down  : For  that  is  his 
covering  only  [that  is,  his  only  covering] ; it  is  his  raiment  for 
his  skin  : wherein  shall  he  sleep  ?” 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


67 


Thus  lightly  clad,  but  with  sinews  of  steel  which  are  better 
than  a girdle  about  his  loins,  he  will  march  all  day,  and 
when  the  night  overtakes  him,  wrap  himself  up  like  a bun- 
dle, and  he  down  and  sleep  under  the  open  sky.  These 
long  marches  are  made  with  little  food.  The  Arabs  eat 
little,  because  they  have  little  to  eat  ; they  are  “ lean  and 
hungry-looking,”  because  they  are  hungry.  It  is  not  once 
in  a month  they  have  a full  stomach.  Hence,  if  by  the  favor 
of  Allah  they  get  a “ square  meal,”  they  eat  till  it  is  gone. 
Set  before  them  a roasted  sheep,  and  they  will  gorge  them- 
selves like  anacondas,  even  though  they  must  fast  the  next 
day.  In  this  utter  thoughtlessness  of  the  future,  they  are 
like  children.  Indeed  if  one  were  to  describe  them  in  a 
single  word,  he  could  hardly  do  it  better  than  by  saying 
that  they  are  grown-up  children.  They  are  children  in 
intelligence.  No  matter  how  old  an  Arab  may  be,  how 
many  suns  and  moons  have  rolled  over  his  head,  he  re- 
mains to  the  day  of  his  death  as  truly  a child  as  when  he 
was  born  into  the  world.  Not  only  does  he  not  know  how 
to  read  and  write,  but  he  does  not  know  his  own  age  ; he 
cannot  tell  the  day,  or  even  the  year,  of  his  birth.  I doubt 
if  one  of  our  Bedaween  could  tell  his  age  within  five,  even 
if  he  could  within  ten,  years.  Indeed  he  has  no  idea  of 
time  any  more  than  of  distance.  Ask  him  how  far  it  is  to 
such  a wady  or  such  a camping-ground  ? He  will  answer 
“A  good  way.”  Indeed  he  never  measures  distance  by 
miles,  but  only  by  hours,  and  even  of  these  his  ideas  are 
of  the  vaguest  kind.  Ask  him  how  long  since  such  a thing 
happened,  and  he  will  answer  “A  good  while  ago.”  As  he 
has  no  clear  memory  of  the  present,  so  he  ha3  no  forecast 
of  the  future.  Like  a child,  he  lives  only  in  the  present. 
Like  a child,  he  acts  wholly  upon  impulse,  upon  the  feel- 
ing of  the  moment.  Like  a child,  his  chief  delight  is  in 
telling  stories,  and  in  listening  to  them.  The  tales  of  the 


68 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


Arabian  Nights  are  simply  a series  of  brilliant  pictures  of 
what  may  be  witnessed  still  when  a group  gathers  about 
a story-teller  in  the  bazaars  of  Cairo  or  Damascus,  or  round 
any  camp-fire  on  the  desert. 

A people  who  are  thus  but  children,  must  be  treated 
like  children,  not  like  full-grown  men.  It  is  useless  to  pre- 
sent to  them  formal  propositions  or  arguments.  I should 
no  more  think  of  reasoning  with  a Bedawee  than  of  reason- 
ing with  a baby.  Give  him  backsheesh,  and  that  he  can 
understand,  but  argument  he  cannot  understand.  Try  to 
govern  him  by  appealing  to  his  conscience  or  his  common- 
sense,  and  you  will  make  a dismal  failure.  He  has  little 
power  of  reflection  or  of  judgment,  and  a very  imperfect 
germ  of  a moral  nature.  The  ordinary  standard  by  which 
he  measures  men  or  actions  is  by  the  amount  of  back- 
sheesh they  give.  A good  man  is  one  who  gives  “ plenty 
backsheesh  ” ; he  who  refuses  this  is  to  be  accursed.  Our 
men  seem  to  regard  me  with  a friendly  eye  as  “the  father 
of  backsheesh.”  They  look  up  to  the  Howadji  as  a kind 
of  Providence,  who  is  to  rain  gifts  upon  them,  causing  the 
desert  literally  to  blossom  as  the  rose.  The  honor  they 
put  upon  me  would  be  embarrassing  were  it  not  that  they 
are  easily  satisfied.  The  Arab  is  pleased  with  a trifle  which 
tickles  his  appetite  or  touches  his  vanity — a bit  of  gay 
color  to  wrap  round  his  head,  or  even  a pinch  of  tobacco 
to  fill  his  pipe.  I hope  my  rigid  friends  at  home  will  not 
accuse  me  of  corrupting  the  simplicity  and  innocence  of 
these  children  of  the  desert,  when  I confess  that  the  drag- 
oman, wishing  to  exalt  me  in  their  esteem,  brought  me 
every  morning  a pouch  of  tobacco,  to  be  dispensed  in  the 
course  of  the  day.  I was  not  prodigal  of  such  riches,  but 
when  a poor  fellow  looked  up  to  me  appealingly,  pointing 
to  his  empty  pipe,  I gave  him  a pinch  to  fill  it.  Never  did 
a little  seed,  sown  on  good  ground,  bring  forth  a richer 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


69 


crop  of  gratitude.  If  I liad  bestowed  royal  favors,  their 
delight  could  not  have  been  greater.  They  smiled  at  me 
all  day  long  as  they  trudged  by  my  side,  and  called  down 
upon  me  all  the  blessings  of  the  Prophet.  Thus  the  Arab 
may  be  governed  through  his  pleasures,  his  imagination,  or 
his  fear.  If  a leader  among  the  Bedaween  knows  how  to 
amuse  them  up  to  a certain  point,  all  the  while  keeping  a 
tight  rein  upon  them,  he  will  have  no  trouble.  The  greater 
the  awe  of  his  power,  the  greater  the  liberty  with  which 
they  can  be  indulged.  But  they  must  never  be  allowed  to 
forget  that  he  is  their  master.  If  he  will  but  please  their 
fancy,  and  at  the  same  time  impress  them  with  a sense  of 
his  own  authority,  and  thus  keep  them  in  strict  subjection, 
he  will  find  them  docile  and  obedient. 

So  far,  then,  I was  pleased  with  my  new  companions — 
a pleasure  which  was  all  the  greater  because  it  was  min- 
gled with  surprise.  I had  been  accustomed  to  think  of 
the  Bedaween  as  born  cut-throats,  as  by  nature  thieves 
and  robbers,  and  who  would  not  scruple  at  murder.  But 
our  experience  has  been  of  the  most  pleasant  character. 
"We  have  had  them  in  our  service  for  weeks,  and  more 
faithful  servants,  or  those  more  harmless  and  inoffensive, 
I never  saw.  We  cannot  help  becoming  attached  to  crea- 
tures so  simple,  who  seem  to  live  in  our  favor,  and  who 
follow  us  like  pet  spaniels. 

Whenever  we  dismounted  to  walk,  I observed  my  cam- 
eleer looking  wistfully  at  the  vacant  seat.  He  would  not 
have  presumed  to  vault  into  his  master’s  saddle  ; but  some- 
times I gave  him  a smile  and  a nod,  when  he  climbed  up 
at  the  rear,  and  seating  himself  a few  inches  in  front  of 
what  looked  more  like  a piece  of  tarred  rope  than  a re- 
spectable tail,  with  his  naked  and  swarthy  legs  high  in  ah’, 
rode  in  triumph. 

Among  those  attached  to  me  as  my  retainers  was  a boy, 


70 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


who  sometimes  had  the  honor  of  leading  my  camel.  He 
was  a bright  little  Arab,  and  never  looked  up  to  me  with- 
out a smile  on  his  face.  Perhaps  he  saw  a smile  in  the 
face  looking  down  upon  him.  I taught  him  one  English 
word — “ good  ” — and  the  manner  in  which  he  would  re- 
peat after  me  “ Good,  good,  good,”  was  the  amusement  of 
the  whole  party.  How  patiently  he  trudged  along  from 
day  to  day,  always  merry,  without  a care — a creature  of 
the  sun,  living  in  its  beams.  Poor  little  Selim ! where  is 
he  now?  Watching  the  flock  of  black  goats  on  the  hill- 
side ? Does  he  ever  think  of  the  Howadji  ? The  Howadji 
sends  him  his  blessing.  May  he  too  have  goats  and  cam- 
els, and  a black  tent,  and  the  fairest  daughter  of  the  tribe 
for  his  little  wife,  and  find  many  an  occasion  to  chuckle 
within  him,  “ Good,  good,  good ! ” 

Of  course  there  are  Bedaween  and  Bedaween.  I am 
far  from  thinking  that  all  are  quite  so  gentle  as  ours  thus 
far  have  been.  More  than  once  we  have  met  a savage- 
looking  fellow,  who  seemed  to  be  roaming  about  without 
any  purpose,  and  who  certainly  looked  like  a brigand,  with 
his  cutlass  at  his  side  and  his  blunderbuss  on  his  back. 
What  style  of  address  he  might  have  used  had  he  met  one 
of  us  alone,  I cannot  say.  Perhaps  he  would  not  have 
stood  upon  forms  of  politeness.  But  seeing  us  well  at- 
tended and  well  defended,  instead  of  demanding  our 
money  or  our  life,  he  asked  only  tobacco  to  fill  his  pipe, 
and  went  on  his  way  perhaps  a little  disappointed,  but  not 
altogether  sullen  and  threatening. 

I ought  to  add,  although  it  is  anticipating,  that  this 
favorable  opinion  of  the  Bedaween  was  a good  deal  modi- 
fied several  weeks  later,  when  we  got  among  the  robber 
tribes  on  the  border  of  Palestine.  But  for  the  present  we 
were  among  the  gentle  Tawarah,  the  Arabs  of  Sinai,  of 
whom  I here  record  my  first  impressions. 


OUR  BED  A WEEN  COMPANIONS. 


71 


Such  musings  beguiled  the  weariness  of  the  way.  To- 
wards noon  we  descried  across  the  plain  a projecting  cliff, 
to  which  we  directed  our  course,  and  dismounting,  threw 
om'selves  under  its  shade.  The  dragoman  brought  the 
saddles  from  the  camels,  and  placed  them  as  pillows  for 
our  heads.  Thus  stretched  at  length,  we  felt  how  grateful 
beyond  all  words  was  “ the  shadow  of  a great  rock  in  a 
weary  land.”  An  hour’s  rest  was  followed  by  our  midday 
meal,  which  was  enlivened  by  the  appearance  of  an  unex- 
pected guest.  As  we  were  taking  our  oranges  and  figs, 
there  rode  up  on  his  camel  an  Arab  of  somewhat  com- 
manding appearance,  whom  our  dragoman  instantly  recog- 
nized and  announced  as  the  Sheikh  of  all  the  Bedaween  of 
Sinai.  He  wore  no  sign  of  his  rank  except  a red  silk  tunic, 
and  yet  he  is  held  in  awe  throughout  the  Peninsula,  and 
has  among  these  wild  tribes  an  almost  unlimited  authority. 
Of  course  we  could  not  be  wanting  in  proper  respect  to 
such  a guest.  Not  to  be  outdone  by  Oriental  hospitality, 
we  begged  him  to  alight  and  partake  of  our  repast — an 
invitation  which  he  did  not  wait  to  have  repeated.  To  tell 
the  truth,  he  seemed  to  be  blessed  with  a comfortable 
appetite,  and  made  no  objection  to  the  quality  of  our  fare. 
After  he  had  feasted  to  his  heart’s  content,  and  while  he 
still  sat  on  our  outspread  rugs,  with  his  legs  curled  under 
him  like  a Grand  Turk,  and  was  smoking  his  pipe,  it  oc- 
curred to  me,  with  true  editorial  instinct,  that  it  would  be 
a good  opportunity  to  “ interview  ” him,  and  I signified  my 
desire  to  enter  into  a conversation,  and  was  about  to  begin 
in  the  abrupt  American  way,  when  Dr.  Post  checked  me, 
intimating  that  an  Oriental  must  be  approached  with  a 
more  formal  courtesy.  He  asked  him,  therefore,  a few 
questions  in  regard  to  his  family,  expressing  the  liveliest 
interest  that  the  long  line  of  emirs  from  which  he  was 
descended,  and  from  which  he  derived  his  authority,  might 


72 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


nevei’  cease.  At  this  the  old  man  beamed  upon  us,  recog- 
nizing the  delicate  compliment,  and  was  in  the  best  mood 
to  impart  the  desired  information.  Thus  encouraged,  I 
began  : 

“ How  many  Bedaween  are  there  in  the  Peninsula  of 
Sinai  ? ” 

“ I have  three  thousand  men-at-arms.”  This  is  the  way 
in  which  a population  is  reckoned,  by  the  number  of  their 
spears  ; of  men  capable  of  bearing  arms.  On  the  desert 
one  never  meets  an  Arab  without  a sword  at  his  side  or  a 
gun  slung  on  his  back.  The  sword  is  commonly  old  and 
rusty,  and  the  gun  plugged  up  at  the  muzzle,  showing  that 
it  is  seldom  fired  off.  But  either  sword  or  gun  is  the 
badge  of  a man-at-arms,  who,  in  case  of  necessity,  may  be 
called  by  his  sheikh  into  the  field.  I could  not  help  think- 
ing that  such  a rabble,  armed  only  with  flintlocks  or  match- 
locks, could  not  be  very  formidable.  Soldiers  they  could 
hardly  be  called.  I never  saw  any  of  them  training  in 
companies,  or  showing  signs  of  military  discipline.  A few 
hundred  men,  armed  with  breechloaders,  could  march  any- 
where from  one  end  of  the  Peninsula  to  the  other.  But 
it  would  have  been  a want  of  tact  to  raise  a question  as 
to  the  skill  or  prowess  of  the  Bedaween  of  Sinai  : I only 
sought  to  know  their  numbers. 

Leaving  the  field  of  war  for  that  of  love,  I asked  about 
their  marriage  customs — -how  the  daughters  of  the  desert 
were  wooed  and  won.  The  old  sheikh  took  his  long  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  while  the  smoke  curled  into  the  ail*, 
he  made  answer  in  substance  thus  : 

“Among  the  Arabs  a maiden  has  nothing  whatever  to 
say  in  regard  to  her  marriage,  being  subject  in  all  things 
to  the  authority  of  her  parents.  She  does  not  even  see 
the  man  whom  they  have  chosen  for  her,  or  look  upon  his 
face  until  the  affair  is  settled,  when  she  is  carried  veiled  to 


OUR  BED  A WEEN  COMPANIONS. 


73 


his  tent,  and  then  for  the  first  time  may  uncover  her  face, 
and  see  before  her  her  husband.” 

“And  how  are  these  arrangements  made  ? ” 

“ If  a man  of  the  tribe  applies  for  the  hand  of  a woman, 
he  makes  a bargain  as  if  he  were  buying  a sword  or  a gun. 
The  father  expects  compensation,  which  varies  according 
to  the  wealth  of  the  bridegroom  and  the  rank  of  the  bride. 
The  price  is  generally  reckoned,  not  in  money,  but  in 
camels,  which  constitute  almost  the  only  wealth  of  the 
desert.  If  the  suitor  be  one  of  the  maiden’s  own  relatives 
or  near  friends,  a single  camel  may  be  a sufficient  com- 
pensation, where  two  camels  w'ould  be  expected  from  a 
stranger.  The  latter  is  a large  price,  for  a man  on  the 
desert  who  owns  six  or  eight  camels  is  accounted  rich. 
A poor  fellow  ” (such  as  would  be  called  in  our  Southern 
States  one  of  the  “ low  down  whites  ”)  “ might  get  a girl 
of  his  own  inferior  class  for  one  or  two  Turkish  pounds  ” 
(five  or  ten  dollars). 

“In  fixing  the  value  of  a bride,  I suppose  chief  regard 
is  paid  to  beauty  ? ” . 

“ Not  at  all.  Beauty  scarcely  enters  into  the  account. 
The  supreme  consideration  is  the  rank  of  her  family.  The 
Arabs  are  very  proud  of  their  family,  and  she  who  can 
boast  of  belonging  to  the  first  of  her  tribe  is  more  prized 
than  she  who  is  only  fair  to  look  upon.”  This  took  me 
quite  by  surprise.  I could  not  understand  how  the  con- 
sideration of  rank  could  have  place  among  these  barefooted 
children  of  the  desert.  They  all  seemed  to  ms  to  stand  on 
a common  level  of  poverty.  It  was  like  an  aristocracy 
among  beggars.  But  Dr.  Post  assured  me  that  it  was  so — 
that  distinctions  of  rank  are  as  marked  among  them  as  in 
the  nobility  of  any  country  in  Europe.  He  said  the  Arab 
families  traced  back  their  line  through  generations,  and 
were  very  proud  of  their  long  descent — a pride  which  sur- 


74 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


vived  even  in  the  lowest  degree  of  worldly  estate.  He  had 
had  among  his  patients  a descendant  of  the  great  Saladin, 
who  fought  with  Richard  Coeur  d9  Lion  ; a man  who  was 
blind,  and  whom  he  restored  to  sight  by  removing  a cat- 
aract from  his  eye,  and  who  was  yet  too  poor  to  buy  him- 
self a pair  of  spectacles  ; and  yet  neither  his  poverty  nor 
his  rags  could  make  him  forget  the  blood  that  flowed  in 
his  veins.  No  scion  of  a royal  house  could  be  more  proud 
of  his  kingly  birth.  In  other  cases  he  had  known  emirs 
who  were  regular  tramps.  One  such  used  to  come  around 
to  beg,  mounted  on  a brood  mare  worth  a hundred  and 
fifty  pounds ! He  had  a servant  with  him,  whom  he  sent 
in  to  prefer  his  request  for  alms,  and  who  pleaded  the  high 
rank  of  his  master  as  a reason  why  he  could  not  work.  To 
judge  from  the  tone  of  both  master  and  servant,  it  was  an 
honor  conferred  on  the  giver,  that  he  might  bestow  his 
charity  on  one  of  such  long  and  proud  descent. 

Fearing  lest  a marriage  so  concluded  might  not  be 
always  happy,  our  next  question  was  “ Suppose  the  woman 
who  i3  thus  married  without  her  consent,  does  not  like  the 
husband  that  has  been  given  her,  how  is  she  to  get  rid  of 
him  ? Is  there  any  mode  of  relief  ? ” 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  as  he  answered  : “ It  is 
not  an  easy  matter.  When  a woman  is  married,  she  is  in 
the  power  of  her  husband.  If  he  get3  tired  of  her,  he 
has  but  to  tell  her  that  she  is  divorced,  and  she  goes  back 
to  her  father’s  house.  He  does  not  even  give  her  a writing 
of  divorcement,  as  Moses  commanded  the  Hebrews.” 

This  seemed  to  place  the  advantage  all  on  one  side.  But 
pressing  the  matter  a little  further,  we  found  that  among 
the  Arabs,  as  everywhere  else  in  the  world,  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  a woman’s  revenge,  and  that  if  her  lord  is  too 
much  of  a tyrant,  she  can  at  least  make  him  sit  uneasy  on 
his  throne.  If  she  is  intent  on  seeking  relief  from  her 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


75 


condition,  the  only  way,  said  the  sheihh,  is  to  make  her 
husband’s  life  so  uncomfortable  that  he  shall  of  his  own 
motion  give  her  a divorce  and  send  her  away. 

“Then,”  said  Dr.  Post,  “if  the  wife  does  not  like  her 
husband,  and  wants  to  get  rid  of  him,  she  must  torment 
his  life  out  of  him  and  make  him  so  miserable  that  he  will 
be  glad  to  let  her  go.”  This  hit  the  nail  so  squarely  on 
the  head  that  the  old  sheikh’s  eyes  fairly  snapped,  and  he 
chuckled  as  he  answered  “ Yes,  yes,  that’s  it  exactly — that’s 
the  way  to  do  it.”  We  thought  we  had  heard  of  such 
things  elsewhere  than  among  the  Bedaween — of  many 
a young  bride  sacrificed  for  position  or  for  money ; for 
whom  there  was  no  help,  except  as  she  “ tormented  her 
husband’s  life  out  of  him,”  till  at  last  divorce  or  death 
brought  her  release. 

To  do  the  Arabs  justice,  it  should  be  added  that  when 
the  husband  has  put  his  wife  away,  he  cannot  claim  her 
again.  She  may  go  to  her  family,  or  she  may  seek  another 
protector  in  the  tribe.  If  he  accepts  her  and  defends  her, 
then  the  husband  must  give  her  a divorce. 

I was  curious  to  know  about  the  form  of  Government, 
of  which  the  sheikh  could  speak  by  authority.  It  is  patri- 
archal, just  as  it  has  been  from  the  earliest  times,  and 
passes  from  sire  to  son  through  many  generations.  Our1 
friend  who  was  sitting  before  us  could  trace  his  line  for 
hundreds  of  years.  His  power  had  come  down  from  former 
generations,  and  from  him  would  pass  to  his  descendants 
after  him. 

But  how  about  the  administration  of  justice  in  a country 
where  there  is  no  law,  at  least  no  written  code,  no  lawyers 
or  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  and  even  no  prison  or  place  cf 
execution  ? Yet  there  must  be  some  kind  of  rude  justice, 
or  society  could  not  exist.  The  sheikh  explained  that  in 
offences  against  property,  one  who  steals  from  another 


76 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANIONS. 


must  restore  not  only  the  amount,  but  many-fold.  If  the 
thief  runs  away,  the  man  whom  he  has  robbed  need  not 
trouble  himself,  for  he  has  only  to  levy  on  his  nearest  rela- 
tions. Anybody  belonging  to  the  family  will  do.  He  may 
seize  the  property  of  a brother  or  cousin,'  who  in  turn  must 
look  after  his  rascally  kinsman.  This  is  better  than  all  the 
laws  in  the  world  against  stealing,  at  least  all  laws  which 
could  be  administered  against  Arabs  on  the  desert,  for  it 
enlists  the  family  feeling,  which  is  stronger  than  the  sense 
of  right  and  wrong,  or  even  the  fear  of  individual  punish- 
ment. A man  who  commits  a theft  brings  retribution  on 
his  whole  household,  who  must  suffer  if  he  escapes,  while 
in  any  case  his  act  covers  them  with  disgrace. 

As  to  offences  against  the  person,  there  is  one  rigid  and 
inexorable  law — a law  older  than  Roman  law,  for  Moses 
found  it  on  the  desert  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago  ; 
it  i3  the  lex  talionis — blood  for  blood,  life  for  life.  We  ques- 
tioned the  sheikh  very  closely  in  regard  to  the  blood  feud,  of 
which  we  had  heard  so  much.  He  answered,  without  any  re- 
serve, that  by  the  immemorial  laws  of  the  Arabs,  if  one  of 
the  tribe  killed  another,  the  brother  of  the  murdered  man 
could  take  the  law  into  his  own  hands,  and  kill  the  mur- 
derer. Not  only  was  he  at  liberty  to  do  so,  but  he  must 
do  it — it  was  a point  of  honor,  the  neglect  of  which  would 
be  a disgrace.  If  the  murderer  ran  away,  then  the  slayer 
need  not  go  in  pursuit  of  him.  There  is  no  “ law’s  delay  ” 
on  the  desert  to  prevent  his  taking  his  revenge.  If  he  can- 
not find  the  murderer,  he  may  kill  the  murderer’s  brother, 
or  his  cousin.  I believe  the  license  of  revenge  does  no 
farther  go  than  to  this  degree  of  relationship  ; but  within  < 
this  range  of  consanguinity  the  avenger  may  exact  life  for 
life.  To  this  extent  indeed  he  must  go.  Some  life  he  must 
take.  The  blood  of  his  brother  cries  from  the  ground,  and 
must  not  go  unavenged.  But  if  he  kills  the  brother  or 


OUR  BEDAWEEN  COMPANION'S. 


77 


cousin,  he  cannot  then  come  and  hill  the  murderer,  for  the 
law  of  revenge  is  satisfied.  One  life  has  paid  for  the  other 
life. 

This  seems  a terrible  law— that  of  blood  for  blood  ; 
and  yet  it  is  perhaps  the  best  law  for  the  desert,  for 
the  restraint  it  imposes  on  the  passions  of  the  people. 
The  Arab  knows  that  the  shedding  of  blood  will  bring 
on  a family  feud,  that  will  not  end  till  the  hands  of  his 
victim’s  brother  are  imbrued  in  his  own  blood  ; that  from 
the  instant  he  sheds  blood,  there  is  a mark  upon  his  fore- 
head like  that  on  the  forehead  of  Cain,  giving  license  to 
whoever  meets  him  to  kill  him — a retribution  hovering 
round  him  from  which  he  cannot  escape.  Though  he 
mount  the  swiftest  dromedary,  and  flee  across  the  desert, 
though  he  hide  in  the  mountains,  the  avenger  of  blood  is 
on  his  track,  and  sooner  or  later  he  must  pay  the  penalty 
of  his  deed.  The  knowledge  of  this  is  the  most  powerful 
preventive  of  crime. 

This  ended  our  conversation,  and  the  sheikh  rose  to 
depart.  We  shook  hands,  and  assured  him  of  the  pleasure 
it  had  been  to  meet  him,  to  which  he  responded  with  true 
Oriental  courtesy,  and  then  mounted  his  camel  and  rode 
away,  with  a dignity  that  became  the  lord  of  the  desert. 

Nor  did  we  linger  long  behind.  "We  had  enough  to 
think  of  as  we  mounted  our  camels  and  rode  on.  Toward 
the  close  of  the  afternoon  we  entered  a valley  girt  round 
by  awful  summits,  where  by  the  camel-path  stood  a huge 
boulder  of  red  granite,  which  the  Arabs  say  is  the  very  one 
struck  by  Moses  out  of  which  the  water  flowed.  The  set- 
ting sun  was  tinging  the  giant  heights  and  precipices  of 
Mount  Serbal  as  we  passed  through  the  Yale  of  Bepkidim, 
in  which  the  Israelites  fought  with  the  Aanalekites.  Soon 
we  perceived  by  the  palm  trees  that  we  were  entering  the 
oasis  of  Feiran,  the  great  oasis  of  the  wilderness  of  Sinai. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

No  matter  wliere  a man  may  be — at  borne  or  abroad,  in 
tbe  city  or  in  tbe  wilderness — the  week  comes  to  an  end, 
and  brings  tbe  day  of  rest — blessed  day — never  more  wel- 
come than  on  tbe  desert.  Some  travellers  ignore  it,  claim- 
ing that  tbe  strict  rules  of  Sabbatb  observance  wbicb  ob- 
tain in  Christian  communities  at  borne,  bave  no  place  in 
tbe  wilderness,  where  no  man  is.  A caravan  on  tbe  desert 
is  like  a ship  at  sea,  wbicb  must  keep  on  her  voyage.  Trav- 
ellers are  exposed  to  greater  dangers  here  than  on  tbe 
ocean.  Not  only  may  they  be  overtaken  by  storms  ; they 
may  be  attacked  by  robbers,  who  would  strip  them  of 
everything,  and  leave  them  to  perish  by  exposure  or  by 
famine  ; so  that  it  may  be  a matter  of  necessity  and  mercy 
to  press  on  till  tbe  point  of  danger  is  passed.  I presume 
not  to  judge  those  who  so  reason  and  so  act.  “ I speak 
not  of  commandment,”  but  of  privilege  ; and  only  this  I 
. say,  that  they  lose  an  experience  which  comes  but  rarely 
in  a lifetime,  and  tbe  loss  of  wbicb  they  will  always  regret. 
Nowhere  is  tbe  day  more  needed  for  the  physical  rest 
wbicb  it  brings.  A week  on  tbe  desert  is  a great  trial  of 
strength  and  endurance,  and  one  needs  more  time  to  re- 
cover from  it  than  tbe  few  hours  of  night.  Rest  is  needed 
for  man  and  beast.  As  soon  as  we  entered  this  oasis,  even 
tbe  camels  seemed  to  bave  an  instinct  that  a time  of  rest 
bad  come.  Then'  Sabbatb  began,  according  to  tbe  Hebrew 
custom,  with  Saturday  evening.  No  sooner  were  they  un- 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


79 


loaded  of  their  burdens  than  the  poor  tired  beasts  were 
turned  loose  to  wander  by  the  brookside  and  drink  at  will, 
and  to  crop  the  herbage  that  grew  somewhat  luxuriantly 
in  the  valley.  Our  tents  had  been  pitched  on  the  margin 
of  the  stream,  the  very  sight  of  which  was  cooling  to  eyes 
that  had  rested  so  long  only  on  burning  rocks  and  sands. 
The  change  was  a relief  both  to  body  and  mind,  for  the 
mind  too  had  been  under  a constant  tension,  which  needed 
to  be  relaxed.  And  so,  when  we  came  within  the  circuit 
of  these  hills,  and  under  the  shade  of  these  palms,  we  said, 
This  is  our  rest,  for  we  have  desired  it.  "We  felt  the  strain 
of  the  week  taken  off,  and  began  to  unbend,  and  soon  sank 
down  into  delicious  and  undisturbed  repose. 

And  when  the  morning  broke,  with  returning  conscious- 
ness came  the  blissful  thought  that  we  had  not  to  stir  this 
day.  No  voice  from  the  desert  whispered,  Rise  and  march. 
That  alone  was  enough  to  quiet  our  nerves  ; the  heart  beat 
regularly,  and  the  blood  flowed  smoothly  in  our  veins.  To- 
day, at  least,  no  mortal  care  should  seize  our  breasts  ; these 
long,  golden  hours  were  reserved  for  tranquil  thoughts  and 
sweet  communings  with  our  own  hearts,  with  nature,  and 
with  God. 

The  Sabbath  had  come,  "^e  knew  it  as  soon  as  we 
opened  our  eyes.  Not  by  the  unaccustomed  stillness 
which  in  populous  cities  or  in  villages  marks  the  change 
from  the  days  of  the  week,  for  the  silence  of  the  desert  is 
so  profound  that  it  cannot  be  deepened.  But  there  was 
something  which  was  not  silence  : it  was  Peace.  There 
was  something  in  the  deep  blue  heavens  that  were  bend- 
ing over  us,  that  seemed  to  say,  This  is  the  day  that  the 
Lord  hath  made.  To  enjoy  it  to  the  full,  we  sought  for 
greater  retirement  than  that  of  our  tent.  Dr.  Post,  look- 
ing round  for  the  natural  features  of  the  oasis  in  which  we 
were  camped,  espied  across  the  stream  a solitary  tree,  an 


80 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


acacia  (tlie  tree  which  furnished  the  shittim  wood  of  which 
the  Ark  was  made),  which  he  pronounced  the  most  fully 
proportioned  tree  he  had  seen  on  the  desert.  For  a won- 
der, it  was  of  considerable  size,  and  offered  a grateful 
shade.  The  air  under  it  was  cool  and  refreshing.  To 
this  spot  we  removed  our  camp-chairs  and  a table,  and 
even  our  iron  bedsteads,  that,  if  need  were,  we  might  lie 
down  and  rest  ; and  here  we  spent  a long,  sweet  Sabbath, 
full  of  a heavenly  calm,  with  which  all  nature  seemed  to 
be  in  sympathy. 

Looking  out  from  under  our  tree,  it  seemed  as  if  all 
living  things  were  enjoying  the  rest  of  the  day.  One  must 
have  been  far  in  the  desert  to  realize  how  sweet  as  well  as 
strange  it  was  to  see  two  or  three  little  birds,  not  bigger 
than  sparrows,  hopping  about.  They  were  very  tame,  at 
least  they  had  not  been  scared  by  the  frequent  presence  of 
men,  and  ventured  quite  near  us,  as  if  to  make  our  ac- 
quaintance ; and  as  they  piped  their  feeble  notes,  it  seemed 
as  if  they  were  trying  to  sing  a song  of  home,  to  cheer  the 
lonely  travellers.  But  the  creatures  that  enjoyed  the  day 
the  most  were  the  camels.  They  knew  that  it  was  Sunday, 
and  enjoyed  it  as  if  it  had  been  made  for  them.  Just  see 
them  now!  I have  been  watching  them  as  they  roam 
about  at  their  own  sweet  will.  They  do  not  invade  our 
privacy,  for  they  do  not  seek  the  shade,  but  the  sunshine. 
But  sun  or  shade  or  water — all  is  free  to  them  to-day. 
Here  is  an  old  tramper  of  the  desert  now  standing  before 
me.  I hear  a singular  gurgling  noise,  as  if  a brook  were 
running  down  his  throat.  He  is  sucking  up  the  water  out 
of  the  cistern  which  nature  has  provided  as  a reservoir 
within  him,  into  his  stomach.  Who  would  not  rest  on 
such  a day,  when  even  the  brute  creation  feel  the  blessed- 
ness of  repose  ? 

But  we  found  beneath  the  shade  more  than  mere  phys- 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


81 


ical  rest.  Our  tree  was  but  a little  alcove  in  a great  tem- 
ple, of  which  the  full  proportions — walls  and  columns  and 
domes — were  in  the  mighty  amphitheatre  of  the  hills. 
Here  we  were  in  a deep  valley,  surrounded  by  mountains  ; 
while  above  us  towered  Serbal,  like  Mont  Blanc  above  the 
Yale  of  Chamouni.  Never  did  I realize  before  the  full 
meaning,  as  well  as  beauty,  of  the  words,  “ The  mountains 
bring  peace  ” ; they  are  so  great  and  strong,  standing  fast 
forever,  that  they  preach  peace  to  mortals  vexed  with  petty 
cares.  That  peace  encompassed  us  round  to-day.  We 
seemed  to  be  in  a place  of  prayer  ; and  though  there  was 
no  sound  of  the  church-going  bell  to  awaken  these  soli- 
tudes, yet  we  had  found  a sanctuary  in  which  we  could 
worship  as  truly  as  beneath  the  swelling  dome  or  in  the 
long-drawn  aisle.  Here  we  could  sit  and  read  our  Bibles, 
and  worship  God. 

We  had  not  indeed  forgotten  this  worship  on  any  day 
of  the  week.  Making  a little  family,  we  never  forgot  the 
blessed  institution  of  family  prayers.  This  it  was  not 
always  possible  to  observe  in  our  tent  ; but  after  we  had 
begun  the  day’s  march,  we  found  by  the  wayside  “the 
shadow  of  a great  rock,”  or  some  other  quiet  nook,  where 
we  could  stop  to  read  our  Bibles.  Dr.  Post  had  always  in 
his  pocket  his  Arabic  Bible,  which  is  said  to  be  very  much 
like  the  Hebrew,  from  which  he  read  the  account  of  the 
wanderings  of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness.  It  was 
quite  natural  that  an  Eastern  book,  translated  into  an 
Eastern  language,  should  preserve  a certain  couleur  locale — 
a reilection  not  only  of  the  natural  scenery  amid  which,  but 
of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  people  among  whom 
and  by  whom,  it  was  written — not  always  retained  in  our 
Western  version  ; and  I found  that  the  Bible  so  read  and 
translated  into  English  for  my  benefit,  had  a freshness  and 
beauty  which  I had  not  perceived  before.  The  story  of 


82 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  wanderings  became  more  real  since  we  were  amid  the 
very  scenes  through  which  the  Israelites  passed.  And 
after  reading  this,  how  sweet  to  think  that  we  could  com- 
mit ourselves  to  the  care  of  Him  who  had  led  them  across 
these  very  deserts  and  through  these  very  mountains,  going 
before  them  as  a pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  a pillar  of  fire 
by  night ! More  blessed  still  was  the  privilege  of  commit- 
ting to  Him  those  dearer  to  us  than  our  own  life.  Never 
in  our  prayers  do  we  forget  the  loved  ones  far  away. 
Across  the  desert  and  the  sea  our  hearts  go  to  them  with 
a love  and  a longing  that  distance  does  but  make  the 
stronger.  Perhaps  He  who  is  in  every  place,  and  whose 
ear  is  ever  open,  will  hear  our  lowly  cry  from  the  sands  of 
the  desert,  and  fold  them  in  His  arms  of  infinite  tenderness. 

While  enjoying  the  natural  beauty  of  this  valley  among 
the  mountains,  we  do  not  forget  that  it  is  a spot  of  great 
historical  interest.  It  was  a scene  of  stirring  events  in  the 
history  of  the  Hebrews,  and  a centre  of  monastic  life  in  the 
early  Christian  centuries.  Here  camped  the  Israelites. 
They  fought  to  obtain  possession  of  this  valley  ; and  stand- 
ing here  to-day,  it  is  easy  to  see  why  they  fought  for  it ; 
it  was  simply  to  get  water.  They  had  marched  across  the 
desert  ; they  had  toiled  wearily  through  barren  mountains, 
where  no  stream  or  fountain  quenched  their  thirst.  Moses 
had  struck  the  rock  from  which  gushed  forth  water  to  keep 
them  from  perishing.  But  a little  in  advance  of  him  was 
a valley  watered  by  an  ever-flowing  stream.  Access  to  it 
was  barred  by  the  Amalekites,  and  he  fought  to  force  a 
passage.  I am  well  aware  that  there  is  a question  among 
Biblical  scholars  whether  the  mountain  pass  through  which 
we  have  just  come  is  Rephidim,  but  such  is  the  universal 
tradition  ; and  so  also  has  tradition  fixed  on  the  sharp 
peak  which  rises  up  right  in  front  of  us  as  the  one  which 
Mose3  ascended  to  pray  while  the  battle  was  going  on,  and 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


S3 


where  Aaron  and  Hur  held  up  his  hands.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  we  climbed  this  peak,  and  stood  on  the  very 
spot  where  Moses  knelt  and  prayed,  and  looked  on  the  very 
scene  on  which  he  looked  on  that  eventful  day  which  was 
to  decide  the  fate  of  Israel,  when  his  hopes  rose  and  fell, 
for  the  battle  was  long,  and  ended  not  till  the  going  down 
of  the  sun.  It  was  sunset  when  we  stood  there,  and  it 
required  little  imagination  to  conceive  of  the  great  Hebrew 
Lawgiver  at  that  hour  rising  from  his  knees,  his  prayers 
turned  to  praise  as  he  saw  the  Amalekites  fleeing  through 
the  passes  of  the  mountains. 

Some  I know  would  look  on  this  scene  with  very  differ- 
ent feelings.  A popular  lecturer  has  undertaken  to  expose 
the  Mistakes  of  Moses,  and  in  following  the  narrative  of 
the  Exodus,  he  denounces  the  entrance  of  the  Israelites 
into  the  Peninsula  of  Sinai  as  an  unprovoked  invasion  of 
the  territory  of  a peaceful  neighbor — an  act  which  was  not 
merely  a mistake,  but  a crime.  This  censure  of  Moses  is 
not  new.  There  is  nothing  in  the  Bible  which  is  a more 
frequent  subject  of  attack  than  the  alleged  cruelty  of  the 
Hebrew  leader  in  forcing  his  way  among  an  unoffending 
people.  But  let  not  the  critics  be  too  hasty  in  judgment. 
We  must  take  large  views  of  things.  The  Exodus  from 
Egypt  was  one  of  those  great  migrations  of  nations  of 
which  we  read  in  history,  movements  accomplished  by 
great  suffering  and  great  sacrifices,  as  when,  in  this  very 
jCase,  the  whole  Hebrew  people  perished  in  the  wilderness, 
'yet  through  which  comes  at  last  the  deliverance  of  nations 
and  the  general  progress  of  mankind.  Colonel  Ingersoll 
is  an  ardent  advocate  of  liberty,  and  a fierce  denouncer  of 
slavery  in  every  form.  We  presume  he  would  think  slaves 
justified  in  fleeing  from  bondage,  and  seeking  their  free- 
dom, even  if  the  end  could  not  be  gained  except  at  the 
price  of  the  sacrifice  of  precious  lives — their  own  and 


84 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


their  masters.  If,  in  the  times  before  our  civil  war,  two 
millions  of  slaves  had  risen  up  in  the  night,  and  made  an 
exodus  from  the  South,  their  “ house  of  bondage”;  and  if, 
in  order  to  find  a refuge  far  away — a lodge  in  some  vast 
wilderness,  where  they  could  enjoy  their  freedom,  with 
none  to  molest  or  make  them  afraid — they  had  started  for 
some  remote  and  almost  uninhabited  region  of  Northern 
Mexico  ; and,  when  marching  on  in  great  battalions,  with 
their  wives  and  little  children,  had  been  stopped  in  their 
progress  by  bands  of  Apache  Indians  ; would  it  have  been 
a great  wrong  for  them  to  force  then’  way  ? 

Let  the  assailants  of  Moses  sneer  as  they  will.  The 
more  I see  of  the  desert,  the  more  the  miracle  of  the  Exo- 
dus grows  upon  me,  and  the  more  profound  the  reverence 
I feel  for  that  stern  old  Hebrew  Cromwell,  who  was  the 
leader  of  the  Israelites  in  that  great  crisis  of  their  his- 
tory. In  all  our  marches  the  past  week,  that  presence  has 
never  been  absent.  The  figure  of  Moses  is  the  one  great 
figure  which  gives  supreme  interest  to  this  land  of  deso- 
lation. When  we  pass  through  deep  mountain  gorges,  the 
cliffs  on  either  hand  take  on  a new  interest  as  I think  that 
they  have  looked  upon  Moses  as  he  passed  by,  perhaps 
with  a countenance  grave  and  downcast,  bearing  the  bur- 
den of  a nation  on  his  mighty  heart.  Often  doubtless  did 
he  lie  down  in  these  dark  mountain  recesses,  with  only  a 
stone  for  a pillow,  and  look  up  to  the  stars  shining  in  this 
clear  Arabian  sky,  and  wonder  if  the  God  whom  he  wor- 
shipped would  carry  him  through.  In  the  battle  which  was 
fought  on  this  ground  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago, 
it  was  not  only  the  Israelites  fighting  with  the  Amalekites  : 
it  was  the  battle  of  civilization  with  barbarism.  Never 
was  a truer,  as  well  as  more  eloquent  saying  than  that  of  a 
great  student  of  history,  Bunsen  : that  “ History  was  bom 
on  the  night  when  Moses  led  the  Israelites  out  of  the  land 


A SABBATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


85 


of  Goshen.”  Egypt  indeed  had  been  an  empire  for  we 
know  pot  how  many  centuries  or  millenniums.  But  it  had 
no  history.  Its  record,  preserved  to  us  in  monuments  and 
inscriptions,  is  a mere  chronology — a catalogue  of  succes- 
sive dynasties,  as  utterly  dry  and  dead  as  the  mummies  of 
its  buried  kings.  That  is  not  history.  But  the  Exodus 
was  the  beginning  of  a series  of  events,  unfolding  through 
centuries,  which  marked  a steady  movement  of  the  nations. 
"When  Moses  fought  with  Amalek,  he  carried  in  his  right 
hand  the  destiny  of  millions  yet  unborn.  If  he  had  per- 
ished on  that  fatal  day,  there  would  have  been  no  Com- 
monwealth of  England,  and  no  Commonwealths  in  New 
England  ; the  dial  of  human  progress  would  have  been 
set  back  a thousand  years. 

This  oasis  has  been  made  famous  also  in  a history 
more  recent  than  that  of  Moses.  In  the  early  centuries  it 
was  a great  resort  for  monks.  A Convent  stood  on  a hill 
which  is  but  a few  hundred  yards  from  our  camp,  where 
its  ruins  are  yet  to  be  seen  ; while  all  round  the  valley  the 
sides  of  the  hill  are  pierced  with  cells,  in  which  the  monks 
passed  their  lives.  They  were  not,  strictly  speaking,  her- 
mits, for  hermits  live  in  solitude  ; but  Cenobites,  who  live 
in  communities.  There  must  have  been  a large  commu- 
nity here,  to  judge  from  the  number  of  cells  by  which  the 
mountains  are  honeycombed.  We  climbed  up  to  some  of 
them,  and  found  them  hewn  in  the  solid  rock,  and  but  a 
few  feet  square.  Yet  these  were  the  only  homes  of  the 
monks,  in  which  they  passed  their  lives  in  prayer  and  med- 
itation. Here  they  ate  and  slept  and  prayed  and  died — in 
little  stone  cells,  hardly  high  enough  for  a man  to  stand 
upright  in,  though  long  enough  for  him  to  lie  down ; 
which  indeed  had  more  of  the  shape  and  dimensions  of 
a sarcophagus  than  of  a place  of  human  habitation.  Nor 
is  one  surprised  to  learn  that  the  monks  were  buried  at 


86 


A SABBATH  IX  THE  WILDERNESS. 


last  in  the  same  rock-hewn  sepulchres  in  which  they  had 
passed  a living  death.  For  such  a religion  I have  no  sym- 
pathy. Such  lives  are  of  no  benefit  to  anybody.  Self- 
denial  for  the  sake  of  doing  good  to  others,  is  according 
to  the  law  of  Christ.  But  suffering  endured  as  a penance, 
self-inflicted  torture,  is  far  away  from  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel.  I can  feel  no  admiration  for  that  religion  which 
thinks  to  merit  heaven  by  making  earth  a hell. 

But  the  day  was  drawing  to  a close,  and  we  were  in  no 
mood  to  indulge  in  criticism  even  of  the  false  piety  of  a 
former  age.  Rather  would  we  give  ourselves  up  to  the 
tender  associations  of  the  place  and  the  hour.  To  com- 
plete the  charm  of  this  perfect  day,  to-night  the  moon 
reached  the  full.  The  scene  was  unearthly  as  she  rose 
above  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and  shone  down  into  the 
deep,  lonely  valley.  It  seemed  as  if  the  peace  of  God  were 
resting  on  the  face  of  the  earth — not 

“ The  peace  that  sages  in  meditation  found,” 
but  a peace  from  the  Infinite  Presence,  which  filled  the 
spaces  of  the  silent  air  ; and  as  if  more  than  one  sleeper 
on  the  desert  might  have  a vision  in  his  dreams  of  a lad- 
der whose  top  touched  heaven,  with  angels  ascending  and 
descending  upon  it.  How  can  we  help  serious  thoughts 
in  the  strange  scenes  in  which  we  are  ? Here  we  tarry  but 
a night  ; to-morrow  we  resume  our  march.  The  wander- 
ings of  the  Israelites  are  a type  of  that  pilgrimage  which 
we  are  all  making  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world. 
If  we  are  only  marching  in  the  right  direction,  we  need 
not  fear  to  move  on  day  by  day,  glad  to  know  that  each 
day’s  march  brings  us  nearer  to  the  end  : 

“ Here  in  the  body  pent, 

Absent  from  Thee  I roam, 

Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent, 

A day’s  march  nearer  home.” 


CHAPTER  YU. 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 

We  had  not  yet  come  unto  Mount  Sinai,  but  we  liad 
come  to  another  mountain  which  disputes  with  Sinai  the 
claim  to  be  the  Mount  of  the  Law,  and  which  cannot  be 
passed  by  without  a fixed  and  steady  gaze.  No  traveller 
on  the  desert  fails  to  see  Serbal,  for  it  is  of  such  impos- 
ing majesty,  standing  alone  and  dwarfing  all  surrounding 
heights,  that  it  is  seen  afar  off  above  the  tops  of  the  moun- 
tains. Nor  is  it  visible  only  on  the  Peninsula,  but  at  a 
great  distance  beyond,  both  on  land  and  sea.  Those  who 
pass  up  and  down  the  Red  Sea  catch  sight  of  it  as  the 
great  object  on  the  horizon  ; and  beyond  the  waters  both 
of  Suez  and  of  Akaba,  it  is  seen  at  once  from  the  shores 
of  Africa  and  of  Arabia. 

I shall  never  forget  a view  of  Serbal  that  we  had  from 
the  top  of  the  Nakb  el-Budra  (the  Pass  of  the  Sword’s 
Point),  one  or  two  long  marches  before  we  came  under 
his  shadow.  We  had  been  all  day  moving  slowly  through 
a succession  of  wadies,  which  were  like  mountain  gorges, 
when  we  came  into  a naiTow  pass,  where  our  advance 
was  stopped  by  high  barriers  of  rock,  which  we  scaled 
only  by  turning  from  side  to  side  as  by  a winding  stair. 
When  we  had  climbed  to  the  top,  a new  horizon  was 
opened  before  us  far  to  the  South,  which  uncovered  a 
sea  of  mountains,  in  the  midst  of  which  uprose  Serbal, 
towering  above  them  all.  From  that  moment  we  never 
lost  sight  of  this  monarch  of  mountains,  but  were  all  the 


88 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


while  approaching  nearer  and  nearer,  till  now  we  were  in 
his  very  presence. 

But  to  see  Serbal  is  one  thing,  and  to  ascend  it  is  quite 
another.  This  is  not  in  the  usual  programme  of  a pilgrim- 
age to  Mount  Sinai.  Although  the  caravan  route  winds 
round  its  base,  most  travellers  only  look  up  with  awe  at 
that  majestic  form,  and  pass  by  at  a respectful  distance. 
They  almost  shudder  at  the  sight  of  its  tremendous  cliffs, 
and  are  quite  willing  to  leave  them  unsealed.  But  Dr. 
Post,  who  is  of  an  aspiring  mind  in  such  matters,  was  not 
so  easily  satisfied.  No  sooner  did  Serbal  show  its  head  in 
the  distance  than  it  seemed  to  fascinate  him,  and  he  began 
to  throw  out  hints  like  these  : “ What  a grand  thing  it 
would  be  to  climb  yonder  awful  height ! ” and  “ How  far 
below  us,  in  every  sense,  should  we  leave  ordinary  pil- 
grims ! ” until  he  gradually  poisoned  my  innocent  mind 
with  his  ambition.  The  dragoman  said  nothing,  for  he 
was  not  allowed  to  say  anything,  his  only  place  being  to 
carry  out  the  will  of  his  imperious  masters.  He  only  sug- 
gested meekly  that,  as  it  was  a long  day’s  march,  we  should 
need  to  start  very  early  in  the  morning.  To  this  we  had 
no  objection.  Indeed  having  once  got  the  idea  into  our 
heads,  the  only  way  to  get  it  out  was  to  make  the  attempt. 
This  once  decided  upon,  the  idea  haunted  me  even  in  my 
dreams.  Half  a dozen  times  in  the  night  I rose  and  went 
to  the  door  of  the  tent,  and  looked  out  to  see  if  there  were 
not  some  faint  forerunner  of  the  dawn  ; but  the  full  moon 
still  rode  high  in  heaven,  and  poured  down  a flood  of  light 
on  mountain  and  valley,  and  rock  and  ruin,  and  on  the 
white  tents,  around  which  Arabs  and  camels  were  sleep- 
ing motionless  as  if  in  death.  But  long  before  daybreak 
there  was  a stir  in  the  camp.  The  fire  was  lighted,  the 
cook  was  bustling  about,  and  the  coffee  sent  forth  a sweet 
smell.  The  cameleers  had  brought  up  our  beasts  to  the 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


89 


tents,  where  they  were  lying  stretched  on  the  soft  sand, 
waiting  for  their  riders.  The  moon  had  but  just  dipped 
behind  the  hills,  and  the  sun  had  not  yet  given  a sign  of 
his  coming,  when  we  vaulted  into  the  saddle  and  set  out 
upon  our  march,  following  a trail  up  a wady  worn  in  the 
course  of  ages  by  a torrent,  which  had  washed  down  great 
boulders  that  at  every  step  blocked  our  advance.  The 
path  turned  and  twisted,  till  it  seemed  almost  impossible 
to  force  a passage.  Hoav  far  we  went  on  camels’  backs, 
I cannot  tell  ; certainly  not  over  three  or  four  miles,  for 
it  would  have  taken  a quick  stepper  to  make  two  miles 
an  hour  up  such  a pass.  This  slow  march  would  have 
been  very  tiresome,  and  wearied  us  even  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  day,  were  it  not  that  our  eyes  were  soon  fas- 
cinated by  the  scene  which  was  beginning  to  dawn  upon 
us.  As  we  crept  slowly  upward,  streaks  of  light  amxounced 
the  coming  of  the  day  ; and  as  soon  as  the  sun  rose  above 
the  Eastern  mountains,  it  stnxck  across  the  valley  to  the 
grander  heights  before  us.  Sei’bal,  though  standing  alone, 
is  not  a solitary  peak,  but  rather  a group,  or  a giant  mass, 
splintered  into  columnar  shapes,  thus  making  five  separate 
columns,  which  were  touched  in  succession  by  the  sun  as 
he  rose  higher  and  higher.  The  effect  recalled  a memora- 
ble suni’ise  on  the  Himalayas,  with  this  difference,  that 
there  it  fell  on  glittei’ing  pinnacles  of  snow,  where  now  it 
lighted  up  only  great  masses  of  rock  ; but  as  these  were 
of  red  granite,  they  seemed  to  be  kindled  by  the  morning 
sun,  so  that  if  the  Persian  fire-woi’shippers  had  been  here, 
they  might  well  have  uncovered  their  heads,  and  stood 
silent  and  reverent  at  the  sight  of  those  flaming  altars  in 
the  sky. 

For  about  two  hours  our  camels  kept  on  their  toilsome 
climb,  till  we  came  to  a point  where  they  could  not  move 
another  step.  Here  was  just  space  among  the  rocks  for 


90 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


them  to  kneel  down,  and  be  lightened  of  their  burdens. 
The  rest  of  the  ascent  must  be  made  on  foot.  Our  way 
led  up  a chasm  that  cleft  in  twain  two  of  the  massive  forms 
of  Serbal.  We  started,  not  very  vigorously,  but  slowly,  to 
reserve  our  strength.  We  soon  found  that  we  had  need  of 
it,  for  we  were  in  for  a task  requiring  oui-  utmost  endur- 
ance. The  ascent  was  often  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  de- 
grees ; indeed  in  many  cases  it  was  almost  perpendicular. 
It  was  climbing  over  huge  granite  boulders  weighing  hun- 
dreds of  tons,  or  turning  around  them.  Sometimes  we 
fell  upon  our  hands  and  feet,  and  could  only  crawl  where 
we  could  not  walk  upright.  So  we  went,  feeling  our  way 
around  the  points  of  rocks,  and  creeping  along  the  edge 
of  precipices,  where  a single  false  step  would  have  given 
us  a fearful,  probably  a fatal,  plunge.  Indeed  I could  not 
have  got  on  at  all  but  for  the  Arabs,  who  led  the  way, 
springing  forward  like  catamounts,  and  clinging  to  the 
rocks  with  their  bare  feet,  and  reaching  out  their  long, 
sinewy  arms  to  grasp  mine,  which  were  extended  upward, 
while  another  swarthy  creature  would  come  behind  to  give 
me  a “ boost.”  Once  or  twice  I sank  down  quite  exhaust- 
ed, and  the  dragoman  cast  on  me  a look  of  pity  as  he  said 
“ I so  sorry  ! ” and  even  Dr.  Post,  who  thought  I had  found 
the  undertaking  more  than  I bargained  for,  advised  me  to 
give  it  up.  But  it  is  not  in  my  nature  to  give  up  a thing 
when  once  I have  undertaken  it.  I asked  only  for  an  occa- 
sional breathing  spell. 

While  lying  stretched  on  the  rocks,  lest  the  scene  should 
become  too  tragic,  it  was  relieved  by  a touch  of  the  comic, 
which  is  seldom  absent  in  the  society  of  my  irrepressible 
countrymen.  Accompanying  us  up  the  mountain  was  the 
other  party  of  which  I have  spoken,  in  which  were  a couple 
of  college  students.  Young  America  does  not  pay  much 
respect  to  times  and  places.  Just  as  my  thoughts  were 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


91 


becoming  subclued  to  a solemn  mood,  that  might  best  find 
expression  in  the  fearful  lines  beginning 

“ My  thoughts  on  awful  subjects  roll,” 

I heard  coming  round  the  cliff  a strain  of  a different  char- 
acter. It  was  not  exactly  Church-music,  and  yet  it  sound- 
ed familiar.  Where  had  I heard  it  ? It  began 

“ The  shades  of  night  were  falling  fast, 

As  through  an  Alpine  village  passed 
A youth,  who  bore,  ’mid  snow  and  ice, 

A banner  with  the  strange  device — 

Excelsior  1 ” 

and  was  followed  by  the  chorus  so  familiar  to  college  boys, 
and  which  is  given  out  with  the  greater  force  of  lungs,  as 
it  is  incomprehensible  in  meaning  : “ Upiclee  ! Upicla  ! ” 
And  as  if  this  were  not  enough  to  banish  all  the  sacred 
associations  of  the  place,  next  came  this  still  more  irrever- 
ential  strain  : 

“ The  waiter  roared  it  through  the  hall — 

We  don’t  give  bread  with  one  fishball  I ” 

These  were  strange  sounds  indeed  to  be  echoed  back 
from  the  cliffs  and  down  the  abysses  of  Mount  Serbal. 
But  they  did  me  more  good  than  the  most  majestic  psalm, 
for  the  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  made  me  forget  my 
weariness,  and  a few  minutes  enabled  me  to  recover  breath 
for  a fresh  spring.  And  so  at  last,  pushed  and  pulled  and 
hauled  by  the  Arabs,  and  almost  carried  in  their  black 
arms,  I reached  the  top.  The  ascent  had  taken  six  hours. 

We  found  the  summit  not  a peak  so  much  as  a dome — 
a rounded  mass  of  granite.  Serbal  is  about  the  height  of 
Mount  Washington,  but  this  gives  no  impression  of  its 
real  grandeur  : for  while  Mount  Washington  rises  by  a 
gradual  slope,  its  sides  being  covered  with  forests,  Serbal 
rises  so  perpendicularly  that  its  five  separate  masses  ap- 
pear, as  I have  said,  like  gigantic  columns,  lifting  their 


92 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


heads  against  the  sky.  We  stood  on  the  brow  of  a preci- 
pice, which  might  well  make  one  shudder  as  he  advanced 
to  the  point  of  the  cliff,  and  looked  over  to  a depth  of  four 
thousand  feet. 

And  what  at  last  did  we  gain  by  all  this?  Only  the 
disappointment  that  waits  on  ambition  ? or  enough  to  re- 
pay us  for  the  fatigue  of  this  tremendous  climb  ? We  saw 
beneath  us  a panorama  as  extensive  as  that  seen  from  the 
Eighi  ; only,  instead  of  the  smiling  cantons  of  Switzer- 
land, with  green  fields  and  waving  forests  and  crystal 
lakes,  we  saw  only  the  barrenness  of  utter  desolation,  yet 
in  such  awful  forms  as  produced  an  impression  of  inde- 
scribable grandeur.  All  round  us  the  horizon  was  piled 
with  mountains.  Indeed  the  whole  Peninsula  is  a sea  of 
mountains,  in  which  peaks  on  peaks  are  tossed  up  like 
waves.  It  seems  as  if  they  had  been  thrown  up  out  of 
a lake  of  fire  ; as  if  in  a remote  geological  period,  when 
the  body  of  our  planet  was  a molten  mass,  and  material 
forces  were  acting  with  an  intensity  and  violence  of  which 
we  have  no  conception,  in  some  tremendous  convulsion 
the  flaming  crests  were  tossed  against  the  sky,  and  then 
suddenly  arrested  by  the  Creator’s  hand,  which  held  them 
fixed  in  their  utmost  wildness,  so  to  remain  forever.  But 
it  may  be  a question  whether  this  jagged  outline  was  caused 
by  throwing  up  or  by  wearing  down.  My  companion,  sur- 
veying the  scene,  not  “ with  a poet’s  eye,  in  a fine  frenzy 
rolling,”  but  with  the  patient  observation  of  science,  re- 
ports that  “ these  peaks  are  all  water-worn,  the  result  of  the 
gradual  degradation  of  masses  which  were  probably  over- 
laid by  stratified  rocks,  and  entombed  under  the  sea  ; and 
that  after  their  submersion  and  emergence,  and  the  wearing 
away  of  their  sandstone  and  limestone  coverings,  the  gran- 
ite masses  were  splintered  by  lightning,  shivered  by  frost, 
cracked  by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  worn  by  storms,  into 


.THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


93 


their  present  forms.”  Hence  their  infinite  variety.  There 
is  not  one  long  chain,  like  the  Pyrenees  or  the  Apennines, 
of  a general  average  height  and  form,  but  innumerable 
peaks,  sharp  and  pointed,  as  if  piercing  the  sky,  while 
other  summits  are  broad  and  dome-like,  as  if  the  very 
heavens  might  rest  on  the  support  of  such  “ everlasting 
hills.”  And  these  mountains  are  unlike  those  of  other 
countries  in  being  more  barren  and  desolate.  I have  seen 
mountains  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  have  found  in 
almost  every  case  that  they  had  some  feature  of  beauty 
mingled  with  their  ruggedness,  which  took  away  somewhat 
of  their  desolate  character.  However  lofty  their  eleva- 
tion, their  ascent  was  gradual,  extending  over  many  miles, 
whereby  they  sloped  down  gently  to  the  valleys  below,  and 
their  lower  sides  were  clothed  with  vegetation,  which  re- 
lieved their  sterner  aspect  and  softened  their  rugged  grand- 
eur. Not  so  here.  The  mountains  of  Sinai  rise  up  ab- 
ruptly from  the  plain,  looking  more  like  columns  than 
pyramids ; and  as  their  substance  is  the  hardest  granite, 
which  affords  little  support  to  vegetation,  they  have  a 
bare,  bald  aspect,  for  which  they  are  sometimes  called 
the  Alps  unclothed. 

Between  these  awful  mountains,  and  winding  round 
among  them  in  countless  turnings,  are  the  wadies  of  which 
I have  spoken — river  beds,  through  which,  in  the  time 
of  rains  and  storms,  there  pour  furious  torrents,  which 
as  quickly  pass  away  to  the  sea,  leaving  behind  them 
only  the  traces  of  the  ruin  they  have  made.  Of  these 
wadies,  one  here  obtains  the  most  complete  view.  See 
how  they  wind  and  wind,  turning  hither  and  thither  in 
endless  confusion  ! Here  then  we  have  the  complete 
anatomy  of  the  Sinaitic  Peninsula.  One  takes  it  in  at  a 
glance  in  its  whole  extent,  from  end  to  end,  and  from 
side  to  side.  It  is  enclosed  on  the  east  and  the  west  by 


94 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


the  two  arms  of  the  Red  Sea — the  Gulfs  of  Suez  and  of 
Akaba.  The  former  seemed  to  lie  at  our  feet,  and  follow- 
ing it  with  the  eye,  we  could  almost  see  the  city  of  Suez 
itself.  The  Gulf  of  Akaba  was  farther  away,  and  was  hid- 
den from  us  by  intervening  mountains.  It  lies  in  a de- 
pression, but  over  it  and  beyond  it  we  saw  distinctly  the 
long  range  of  the  mountains  of  Arabia,  as  across  the  Gulf 
of  Suez  we  saw  the  mountains  of  Africa  ; while  southward 
rose  the  great  heights  of  Mount  Catherine  and  Um  Shom- 
mer.  What  a glorious  vision  of  mountains  to  be  embraced 
in  one  view ! One  such  sight  were  enough  to  repay  a hun- 
dred times  the  fatigue  of  our  climb  to  the  summit  of  Serbal : 

“ ’Twere  wor! h ten  years  of  peaceful  life — 

One  glance  at  that  array.” 

And  what  memories  did  those  names  recall ! That  Gulf 
of  Suez  was  the  sea  across  which  Moses  led  the  Israelites  ; 
on  the  Gulf  of  Akaba  sailed  the  fleets  of  Solomon  ; while 
turning  northward  the  eye  rested  on  a long  line  of  white 
cliffs — the  escarpment  of  a table-land  which  was  the  Great 
and  Terrible  Wilderness  in  which  the  Israelites  wandered 
forty  years.  Thus  a wonderful  nature  was  chosen  for  a 
wonderful  history.  It  is  this  mingling  of  the  moral  sub- 
lime with  the  sublime  in  nature  which  makes  the  great 
interest  of  the  Peninsula  of  Sinai.  Beyond  all  the  stupen- 
dous altitudes  of  the  mountains,  beyond  the  Alpine  heights 
and  fathomless  abysses,  in  power  to  stir  the  soul  with  awe, 
is  the  human  history  that  has  been  enacted  amid  these 
great  forms  of  nature.  Serbal  is  clothed  with  such  asso- 
ciations as  with  a garment.  Long  before  the  Exodus  of 
the  Israelites — long  before  Moses  fed  the  flocks  of  Jethro 
by  Mount  Iloreb — Serbal  was  an  object  of  patriotic  and 
superstitious  veneration,  the  centre  of  a nation  and  the 
centre  of  a religion.  Here  were  lighted  fires  to  give  warn- 
ing to  the  tribes  of  the  Peninsula,  as  fires  were  lighted  on 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


95 


Monte  Cavo  near  Rome,  as  signals  to  the  tribes  of  Latium. 
The  Peninsula  then  was  doubtless  far  more  populous  than 
now,  many  tribes  dwelling  in  yonder  valleys,  within  full 
view  of  this  mountain  height,  so  that  when  the  beacon-fire 
was  lighted  here  in  the  darkness  of  night,  it  shone  in  thou- 
sands of  eyes  which  glared  fiercely  at  the  sign  of  battle. 
Nor  was  it  patriotism  alone  which  fired  those  warriors  of 
the  desert.  Serbal,  as  its  name  imports — the  palm-grove 
of  Baal  * — was  a mountain  devoted  to  that  idolatrous  ser- 
vice ; it  was  the  highest  of  all  the  “ high  places  ” set  apart 
for  that  cruel  and  bloody  worship.  Here  the  priests  of 
Baal  erected  their  altars.  On  the  top  is  still  a rude  cairn  of 
stones,  which  may  have  stood  here  from  the  remotest  times. 
This  may  have  been  one  of  their  altars,  which  smoked  with 
human  sacrifices.  Who  could  believe,  when  standing  on 
such  a spot,  amid  such  scenes,  so  grand  and  yet  so  still 
and  peaceful,  that  man  could  thus  defile  the  noblest  works 
of  God  ; how,  unawed  by  such  grandeur,  he  was  capable 
of  deeds  that  thrill  us  with  horror — deeds  of  such  cru- 
elty and  crime ! When  I reached  the  top,  I threw  myself 
down  upon  a shelf  of  rock,  in  which  there  was  a slight 
indentation,  a hollow  such  as  is  sometimes  worn  by  the 
action  of  water,  which  seemed  as  if  made  on  purpose  to 
receive  the  head  of  a poor  pilgrim.  This  I took  for  a pil- 
low, and  here,  stretched  at  full  length,  gave  one  long, 

* The  late  Professor  Palmer,  who  was  at  once  master  of 
Arabic  and  an  indefatigable  explorer  in  the  Peninsula  of  Sinai, 
derived  the  name  from  another  Arabic  word,  sirbcil,  signifying  a 
shirt  or  coat-of-mail,  which  might  have  been  suggested  by  the 
appearance  of  the  mountain  in  a storm,  when  the  floods  de- 
scended on  its  dome- like  head,  and  poured  in  innumerable  silver 
streams  down  its  rocky  sides.  Whether  that  be  the  true  etymol- 
ogy of  the  name  or  not,  the  image  it  presents  is  very  striking 
and  beautiful. 


96 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERBAL. 


steady  gaze  up  into  the  blue  sky.  Hard  indeed  was 
it  to  realize  that  this  very  rock  had  borne  up  the  bloody 
altars  of  Baal,  and  that  these  tranquil  heavens  had  heard 
the  shrieks  of  human  victims.  The  very  memory  of  such 
things  still  brings  a shadow  over  the  scene,  like  the  shad- 
ows of  the  clouds  that  were  at  that  moment  sailing  across 
the  heavens  above  us.  Well  was  it  that  Moses  invaded 
these  mountains  and  valleys,  to  extirpate  not  indeed  such 
a race,  but  such  a religion.  The  descendants  of  the  Baal- 
worshippers  are  here  still,  but  their  worship,  like  the  wor- 
ship of  Moloch,  has  perished  forever. 

As  to  the  question  whether  Serbal  or  Sinai  were  the 
Mount  of  the  Law,  I am  not  so  rash  as  to  enter  into  a con- 
troversy in  which  both  explorers  and  interpreters  differ  so 
widely.  Dean  Stanley  states  at  once  the  advantage  of  Ser- 
bal and  the  objection  to  it,  when  he  says  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  find  a more  commanding  height  for  giving 
the  law,  were  there  only  a plain  or  valley  below  the  Mount 
for  receiving  it.  This  circumstance  has  great  weight,  and 
yet  I cannot  think  it  decisive  : for  it  assumes  what  it  is 
by  no  means  necessary  to  suppose,  that  all  the  Israelites 
stood  together  in  a compact  mass.  Certainly  there  is  no 
broad  plain  under  Serbal,  like  that  of  Er  Bahah  under 
Sinai.  Rephidim  is  comparatively  but  a mountain  pass, 
to  which  Dr.  Post  returned  after  we  had  entered  Wady 
Feiran,  to  measure  it  with  a careful  eye.  He  found  it 
but  a mile  long  and  a third  of  a mile  wide — a space  ample 
for  the  battle  with  the  Amalekites,  for  J oshua  “ chose  out  ” 
his  men,  and  they  might  have  been  only  a few  thousands, 
but  quite  inadequate  to  contain  the  two  millions  of  people 
supposed  to  have  been  present  at  the  giving  of  the  Law. 
But  why  must  we  take  it  for  granted  that  all  stood  in  one 
vast  plain,  in  ranks  and  battalions,  like  an  army  ? There 
are  half  a dozen  wadies  from  which  they  might  see  the  top  of 


THE  ASCENT  OF  MOUNT  SERI5AL. 


97 


Serbal.  They  may  have  been  scattered  over  a space  many 
miles  square,  filling  up  the  depths  of  the  valleys  and  over- 
flowing the  tops  of  the  hills.  The  sides  of  the  mountains 
may  have  been  black  with  the  dense  masses  ; and  away 
yonder,  on  the  shore  of  the  Eed  Sea,  is  a sandy  beach  or 
plain,  where  there  is  space  enough  not  only  for  the  con- 
gregation of  Israel,  but  we  might  almost  say  for  the  army 
of  the  dead  if  they  were  to  rise  up  as  at  the  Day  of  Judg- 
ment. All  were  within  sight  and  hearing  of  the  awful 
Mount.  All  might  have  seen  the  lightnings  from  the 
cloud,  and  heard  the  thunderings  and  “ the  voice  of  the 
trumpet  sounding  long  and  waxing  louder  and  louder.” 
So  it  might  have  been.  How  it  was,  we  can  perhaps  judge 
better  after  we  have  ascended  the  cliffs  of  Sinai. 


CHAPTER  VTTT. 

COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 

That  ascent  of  Serhal  nearly  finished  me.  It  took 
about  as  long  to  descend  as  to  ascend,  and  the  descent 
was  hardly  less  fatiguing.  The  next  morning  I awoke 
with  not  quite  the  elation  I had  the  day  before,  but  rather 
feeling  as  if  I had  been  beaten  from  head  to  foot ; as  if, 
forsooth,  one  of  the  old  monks,  who  had  been  laid  to  rest 
a thousand  years  ago,  enraged  to  have  his  sleep  disturbed, 
had  crawled  out  of  his  cell  and  crept  down  the  mountain 
side  to  administer  to  an  intruder  the  discipline  of  flagella- 
tion. However,  I “picked  myself  up  ” and  began  to  “pull 
myself  together,”  and  found  that  there  was  something  of 
me  left,  and  none  the  worse  for  a little  rough  experience. 

I find  generally  that  what  costs  nothing  is  worth  nothing  ; 
and  so,  if  this  mountain  climb  had  cost  a good  deal,  it 
was  worth  it  all  in  visions  and  memories  which  it  left 
behind,  which  can  hardly  fade  as  long  as  mind  and  mem- 
ory endure.  Amid  the  lighter  impressions  of  the  scene 
(as  a contrast  and  relief  to  those  which  were  more  grand 
and  sombre),  there  was  a glimpse  of  our  Arab  compan- 
ions which  was  not  unpleasing.  "When  we  first  looked 
down  from  the  top  of  Serbal,  it  seemed  as  if  we  were 
looking  into  the  burnt-out  crater  of  a volcano,  where  all  < 
animate  existence  was  extinguished.  But  it  was  not  utterly 
destitute  of  life.  With  a spy-glass,  one  could  detect  the 
signs  of  human  habitation.  In  the  foreground  was  the 
camp  which  we  had  left  at  daylight  in  the  morning,  and 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


99 


sprinkled  here  and  there  among  the  palms  of  the  Wady 
Feiran  were  the  tents  of  Arabs.  Turning  to  points  still 
farther  away,  to  the  very  ends  of  the  wadies,  one  could  see 
little  black  patches  in  the  yellow  sand,  which  we  had 
learned  to  recognize  as  Arab  'villages.  Strictly  speaking, 
the  Arab  has  no  village  ; he  is  a nomad,  whose  only  house 
is  a tent,  who  camps  wherever  he  can  find  a stream  of 
water,  or  a little  pasturage  for  his  camels,  and  when  that 
is  gone,  “folds  his  tent  and  silently  steals  away.”  How 
can  human  beings  live  in  such  frightful  solitudes  ? “ Why 

do  you  not  leave  this  desolate  region,”  said  Dr.  Post  to  one 
of  our  guides,  “ and  go  to  Suez  or  Cairo,  where  you  can 
find  the  companionship  of  men  ? ” “ Oh,  no,”  said  the 

Arab,  “we  cannot  leave  our  mountains  and  valleys.” 
“And  do  you  really  love  them  ? ” “ Oh,  yes,”  he  answered 

with  all  the  fervor  of  a Swiss  mountaineer  in  exile,  sighing 
for  the  cowbells  of  the  llanz  des  V aches.  The  Doctor  was 
standing  on  the  topmost  rock  of  Serbal,  with  his  spy-glass 
in  hand,  following  the  winding  wadies  as  they  swept  round 
and  round  the  base  of  the  mountains.  The  guide  was 
watching  his  movements,  and  observing  the  instrument 
pointed  in  a certain  direction,  he  followed  it  with  eager 
curiosity.  Noticing  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  the 
Doctor  put  the  glass  to  his  eyes,  pointing  it  to  the  valley. 
A moment  passed,  and  a smile  stole  over  the  swarthy  face 
of  the  Bedawee— an  expression  of  wonder  and  surprise 
and  pleasure.  He  had  recognized  the  village  of  his  people. 
There  were  the  little  flocks  of  black  goats  dotting  the  hill- 
side. He  saw  the  tents  of  his  tribe,  and  the  children 
sporting  in  the  sand  : 

“ There  were  his  young  barbarians  all  at  play.” 

What  wonder  that  he  loved  the  spot  ? Poor  and  wretched 
as  it  was,  it  was  his  home,  and  he  would  not  paid  from  it 
for  all  the  delights  of  civilization. 


100 


COMINO  TO  TIIE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


But  it  is  not  only  the  feeling  of  home,  hut  the  feeling 
of  liberty,  that  attaches  the  Arab  to  his  mountains  and 
deserts.  He  loves  the  freedom  of  the  "wilderness,  which  is 
more  to  him  than  soft  raiment  and  kings’  houses.  From 
long  wandering  there  is  a restlessness  in  his  very  blood 
which  cannot  be  tamed.  “ Every  kind  of  beasts  is  tamed, 
and  hath  been  tamed,  of  mankind  ” : man  himself  alone 
remains  untamable.  One  might  as  well  think  of  taming 
the  wildest  Camanches  as  the  Bedaween.  They  are  an 
untamable  race.  True  children  of  Ishmael,  they  have 
roamed  these  deserts  three  thousand  years  untouched  by 
civilization.  I have  sometimes  amused  myself  by  thinking 
what  would  be  the  result  of  an  experiment  to  civilize  a 
Bedawee.  If  he  were  to  be  taken  to  Paris,  to  be  dressed 
in  European  costume,  and  made  in  his  exterior  like  a man 
of  the  gay  world,  and  taught  all  the  luxuries  and  the  vices 
of  civilization,  yet  in  his  moments  of  pleasure  there  would 
creep  over  his  face  the  expression  of  melancholy  which 
seems  to  belong  to  the  Oriental  races,  and  at  the  first 
moment  he  would  escape  from  his  golden  chains,  from  a 
life  which  was  a bondage  and  slavery,  and  fly  to  his  desert, 
to  his  tent  and  his  camel. 

With  such  memories  and  musings,  we  began  our  next 
morning’s  march.  When  we  turned  our  backs  on  the 
Oasis  of  Wady  Feiran,  it  was  like  leaving  home.  How 
soon  the  traveller  on  the  desert  gets  a feeling  of  home  for 
a spot  where  he  has  camped  by  the  brookside  and  under 
the  trees,  where  peace  has  come  to  him  as  he  sat  before 
his  tent  door  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  when  the  evening 
wind  gently  stirred  the  leaves  of  the  palms  over  his  head. 
Three  days  before,  this  oasis  wTas  as  utterly  unknown  to  us 
as  if  it  were  a valley  among  the  mountains  of  Central  Asia. 
Nowit  had  become  dear  by  that  Sabbath  in  the  wilder- 
ness, by  the  ascent  of  Serbal,  and  even  by  our  faintness 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


101 


and  weariness,  for  it  is  the  spots  in  our  earthly  pilgrimage 
where  we  have  been  faint  and  weary  which  linger  longest 
in  the  memory  and  the  heart.  To  be  sure,  we  were  foot- 
sore as  we  rose  up  for  the  duties  of  the  day,  but  our  spirits 
were  light  if  our  limbs  were  heavy.  Our  way  led  along 
the  bed  of  the  little  stream,  which  was  overhung  by  palms. 
Nowhere  have  we  seen  so  many  palms  since  we  entered 
the  desert,  and  they  are  not  like  the  palms  of  Egypt,  naked 
trunks,  with  but  a tuft  of  leaves  at  the  top,  but  are  feath- 
ered from  the  ground,  and  thus  spread  out  their  foliage  in 
all  the  wildness  and  beauty  of  nature.  No  wonder  this 
water-course  is  a great  attraction  for  the  Bedaween,  who 
gather  here  with  their  flocks  and  herds.  Up  to  this  time 
we  had  seen  scarcely  a living  animal  on  the  desert,  except 
the  camels  and  the  little  black  goats,  which  furnish  the 
Arab  with  milk,  and  with  haircloth  for  his  cloaks  and  his 
tents.  But  once  to-day  we  saw  several  sheep,  and  perhaps 
half  a dozen  little  donkeys ! Beally,  after  healing  for  so 
many  days  only  the  grunting  of  camels,  it  was  some  relief 
to  hear  the  good  honest  bray  of  an  ass.  Twice  we  passed 
through  narrow  gates  in  the  rocks,  which  seemed  as  if 
caused  by  a rush  of  waters,  and  in  which  Dr.  Post  found 
proof  that  these  wadies  were  formerly  the  beds  of  lakes, 
which  had  broken  through  these  gates  and  thus  been 
drained  oft'  to  the  sea.  Storms  still  sweep  through  them 
at  times  with  tremendous  fury.  In  1867  an  English  trav- 
eller witnessed  one  of  these  in  the  Wady  Feiran,  when  the 
water  rose  so  rapidly  that  he  had  to  flee  to  the  hills  for  his 
life,  as  the  whole  valley,  three  hundred  yards  wide,  became 
the  bed  of  a river  eight  to  ten  feet  deep,  that  swept  along 
like  an  Alpine  torrent. 

As  we  advanced,  the  wady  grew  wider,  and  broadened 
out  into  a kind  of  upland  valley,  while  the  hills  sank  lower. 
Weary  as  we  were,  we  made  a long  march,  for  the  cam- 


102 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


els  had  rested  two  days,  and  now  strode  forward  with 
quick  steps.  But  though  we  had  a rest  under  a cliff  at 
noon,  we  were  very,  very  tired  ere  the  day  was  done.  It 
was  a pity  that  we  were  so,  for  we  camped  in  a spot  where 
one  would  wish  to  have  all  his  senses  at  command,  to  take 
in  the  fullest  enjoyment.  We  had  come  through  a wady 
that  was  one  of  the  longest  and  widest  in  the  Peninsula, 
and  camped  at  the  very  end,  from  which,  looking  back,  we 
had  such  a view  of  Serbal  as  it  was  worth  travelling  many 
days  to  see,  his  five  columns  seeming  like  the  very  portals 
of  the  Celestial  City  as  they  stood  up  clear  against  the  west- 
ern sky.  But  I was  too  weary  to  enjoy  the  sight  even  of 
the  gates  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  no  sooner  were  our 
tents  pitched  and  our  camp-beds  spread  than  I threw  my- 
self down  and  fell  asleep.  Dr.  Post,  in  a private  letter 
written  months  afterward,  alludes,  among  the  experiences 
on  the  desert  which  he  so  vividly  remembers,  to  “our 
fatigues  and  sickness  and  perils.”  These  are  things  that 
we  do  not  often  speak  of.  But  now  that  it  is  all  over,  I 
think  I can  say  that  that  night  he  was  in  grave  anxiety. 
I saw  it  in  his  face  as  he  watched  the  symptoms  with  a 
fear  which  he  afterwards  confessed,  though  he  did  not 
dare  then  to  express,  that  the  morning  would  find  in  the 
tent  a patient  with  a raging  fever.  His  watchfulness  and 
skill  checked  it.  When  morning  came,  I was  still  very 
weak  and  feverish,  but  not  for  a moment  did  I think  of 
remaining  in  camp.  On  the  desert,  sick  or  well,  one  must 
press  on.  It  is  death  to  stop  long,  although  it  may  seem 
like  death  to  move.  And  as  we  were  within  half  a day’s 
march  of  Sinai,  it  was  worth  rising  up  even  from  a sick 
bed  to  make  a last  effort. 

We  were  now  to  cross  a rugged  pass,  which  leads  over 
into  the  broad  valley  or  plain  that  slopes  to  the  foot  of 
Mount  Sinai.  It  is  fitly  called  the  Pass  of  the  Winds, 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


103 


since  it  seems  as  if  all  the  elements — not  only  winds,  but 
floods  and  storms,  and  tempest  in  every  form,  with  thun- 
der and  lightning — had  been  let  loose  to  work  the  wildest 
ruin  and  confusion.  It  is  narrow  and  steep,  and  so  piled 
with  rocks  that  it  is  quite  impassable  for  baggage-camels, 
which  have  to  be  sent  round  another  way,  that  is  longer 
by  some  hours’  march.  Our  camels  had  quite  enough  to 
do  to  carry  us.  Slowly  and  wearily  did  they  struggle  up- 
ward. As  it  was  impossible  for  two  to  keep  side  by  side, 
we  straggled  on  one  after  the  other,  separate  and  silent. 
My  spirits  were  such  as  might  have  been  expected  from  a 
sick  man,  till  after  two  or  three  hours  we  rose  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  pass,  when  I heard  behind  me  the  voice  of  the 
dragoman  shouting  “ Jebel  Mousa ! ” That  cry  cured  me 
in  an  instant.  If  it  did  not  drive  away  the  fever,  it  made 
me  forget  it'  Instantly  the  tears  rushed  into  my  eyes,  and 
all  personal  feeling  was  lost  in  one  overpowering  thought : 
There  was  the  Mount  of  Moses,  the  Mount  of  God  ! On 
that  domed  summit  the  Almighty  had  descended  in  lire  to 
give  His  law  to  men. 

As  we  picked  our  way  down  the  rocky  pass,  there 
opened  before  us,  not  a narrow  mountain  gorge,  nor  even 
a somewhat  spacious  wady,  but  a plain  over  two  miles 
long  and  half  a mile  wide,  which  was  enclosed  by  hills, 
and  thus  formed  a natural  amphitheatre.  It  was  not  level, 
but  slightly  descending,  like  the  floor  of  some  grand  audi- 
torium, so  that  all  who  stood  upon  it  might  be  in  full  sight 
and  hearing  of  a vision  and  a voice  that  were  in  the  very 
focus  of  this  vast  circumference.  Every  eye  could  be  fixed 
upon  that  awful  Mount.  Such  an  arena,  a hundred  times 
more  spacious  than  the  Coliseum  at  Home,  seems  as  if  pre- 
pared for  a great  assembly  and  a great  occasion.  Never 
was  there  a spot  more  fitted  for  a scene  so  august.  No 
sooner  does  one  enter  it  than  he  feels  that  it  must  have 


104 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


been  intended  for  the  camp  of  Israel,  and  for  the  hearing 
of  the  Law.  The  impression  grows  as  we  advance  toward 
the  foot  of  the  Mount,  for  at  each  step  we  pass  over  the 
very  ground  where  Israel  stood.  When  my  dear  and  hon- 
ored friend,  President  Hitchcock  of  New  York,  with  Pro-  * 
fessor  Park  of  Andover,  and  Henry  B.  Smith  of  blessed 
memory,  were  here  a few  years  since,  they  camped  the 
night  before  reaching  Sinai  at  a distance,  but  in  full 
view  of  the  summit,  and  that  evening  there  came  up  a 
terrific  storm,  in  which  the  lightnings  and  the  thun- 
derings  vividly  recalled  the  scene  in  which  the  Law  was 
given.  We  had  no  such  sight,  neither  when  we  stood  afar 
off,  nor  yet  when  we  drew  nigh  unto  the  Mount  where 
God  was.  The  sky  was  without  a cloud,  as  if  every  token 
of  wrath  had  passed  away,  and  all  was  peace. 

But  neither  sunshine  nor  storm  could  make  us  abide 
in  tents,  if  there  was  a sign  of  a more  stable  habitation, 
and  that  we  were  now  approaching  in  the  Convent  of 
St.  Catherine.  For  the  last  hour  our  eyes  had  been 
divided  between  the  mighty  cliffs  above  us,  which  seemed 
like  the  battlements  of  the  city  whose  walls  are  “ great 
and  high,”  and  a spot  of  green  at  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain. The  Convent  does  not  stand,  as  I had  supposed, 
high  up  on  the  side  of  Mount  Sinai  (I  had  imagined  it 
perched  on  a cliff  overlooking  the  valley  below),  but  at 
its  foot,  and  not  in  front,  but  on  one  side  between  two 
mountains,  where  indeed  it  fills  up  almost  the  whole  pass, 
leaving  but  a few  rods  more  than  room  for  the  camel- 
path  that  winds  around  it.  In  this  confined  space  the 
monks  have  made  a paradise  in  the  wilderness.  A.s  we 
approached,  we  were  delighted  with  the  sight  of  blossom- 
ing trees.  To  be  sure,  there  were  a few  funereal-looking 
cypresses,  which  seemed  in  harmony  with  the  general 
desolation.  But  mingled  with  this  dark  foliage  were  trees 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


105 


in  full  bloom— the  almond,  the  cherry,  the  peach,  and  the 
apricot,  the  olive,  and  the  orange,  with  a single  fine  speci- 
men of  the  carob  tree,  which  yields  “ the  husks  that  the 
swine  did  eat,”  and  which  (though  its  pods  be  destined 
to  such  an  ignoble  use)  is  really  quite  a majestic  tree. 
Around  and  among  these  trees  were  extensive  gardens, 
carefully  cultivated,  and  yielding  fresh  vegetables  in  abun- 
dance. Was  there  ever  a sight  more  grateful  to  the  eyes 
of  weary  travellers,  after  a long  journey  on  the  desert  ? 

The  Convent  is  a range  of  buildings  grouped  in  a quad- 
rangle of  such  extent  that  hundreds  of  pilgrims  could 
easily  be  lodged  within  its  numerous  courts,  and  which 
thus  suggests  the  idea  of  a huge  Eastern  caravanserai, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  a fortress,  for  its  very  construction 
tells  plainly  that  it  was  built  long  ago,  in  times  when  it  was 
a post  of  danger,  to  be  held  against  attack.  Its  walls  are 
like  ramparts,  with  port-holes  and  watch-towers,  and  a 
strong  gateway  like  one  that  opens  into  a fort.  Indeed 
not  fifty  years  ago  strangers  who  found  shelter  here  were 
not  admitted  by  an  open  gate,  but  were  drawn  up  in  a 
basket,  and  swung  into  a window  in  the  third  or  fourth 
story.  The  great  rope  still  hangs  outside  in  token  of  its 
former  use,  and  we  afterwards  amused  ourselves  by  put- 
ting it  round  us  and  taking  a seat  as  in  a swing,  while  the 
monks  above  lifted  us  from  the  ground.  But  this  danger 
has  passed  away  of  later  years,  since  Russia  has  taken  the 
Convent  under  its  protection  ; and  now  it  has  an  arched 
portal,  through  which  a party  mounted  on  camels  can  ride 
into  an  outer  court.  Into  this  we  rode,  and  dismounted  in 
front  of  the  heavier  and  stronger  wall  of  the  fortress. 
Entrance  farther  is  obtained  only  by  a letter  from  the 
Greek  patriarch  at  Cairo,  which  we  had  brought  with  us, 
and  sent  by  an  attendant  to  the  Prior  of  the  Convent. 

Presently  one  of  the  brethren  appeared  and  bade  us 


1C6 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


welcome.  It  was  the  Econome,  who  receives  pilgrims  and 
guests.  We  find  that  the  Convent  has  a sort  of  double 
head,  spiritual  and  temporal  (like  the  Tycoon  and  the 
Mikado  of  Japan) — a Prior,  who  is  the  spiritual  head,  and 
an  Econome  (iEkonomos),  who  is  the  business  manager. 
It  was  with  the  latter  we  had  most  to  do.  The  other  kept 
himself  hid  in  the  recesses  of  the  Convent,  with  his  mind 
fixed  on  heavenly  things,  in  the  dim  religious  light  appro- 
priate to  one  of  his  sacred  character  ; while  the  Econome 
was  by  no  means 

“ . . . Too  wise  or  good 
For  human  nature’s  daily  food,” 

but  a jolly  monk,  who  could  talk  and  laugh  with  the  most 
worldly  visitor.  As  he  led  our  way  into  the  interior,  we 
were  again  reminded  that  we  were  entering  a fortress. 
The  walls  are  seven  feet  thick,  quite  sufficient  to  resist 
any  attack  but  that  of  modern  artillery.  The  postern  is 
just  high  enough  for  a man’s  head,  and  the  passage  so  nar- 
row that  it  admits  but  one  person  at  a time.  The  door 
which  shuts  this  entrance  is  like  the  door  of  a prison,  of 
massive  oak,  barred  and  spiked  with  iron.  Entering  here 
a few  feet,  and  turning  sidewise,  we  were  led  along  one 
passage  after  another  into  an  open  court,  then  down-stairs 
and  up-stairs,  by  a path  so  winding  that  it  was  several 
days  before  I could  find  my  way,  into  the  large  room  of  the 
Convent,  where  strangers  are  received.  Here  several  of 
the  brethren  soon  appeared  with  pleasant  salutations,  and 
notably  the  Archimandrite  of  Jerusalem,  who  has  been 
some  months  at  the  Convent,  and  who,  to  my  great  joy, 
addressed  me  in  French,  so  that  I was  immediately  in 
communication  with  him.  The  others  I had  to  turn  over 
entirely  to  Dr.  Post,  as  they  spoke  little  but  Arabic.  He  is 
a large  man,  of  fine  presence  and  open  countenance,  who 
has  seen  a good  deal  of  the  world,  having  lived  five  years 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


107 


at  Constantinople  and  thirty  at  Jerusalem.  We  were  seated 
oil  the  divan  with  our  hosts,  when  a monk  entered  hearing 
a tray  on  which  were  the  tiny  cups  of  coffee  always  used 
in  the  East.  After  partaking  of  refreshments,  we  asked 
for  lodgings,  which  were  not  so  easily  obtained,  as  the 
rooms  set  apart  for  that  purpose  were  occupied  by  ecclesi- 
astical visitors.  Of  late  years  travellers  have  more  gener- 
ally adopted  the  plan  of  camping  outside  the  Convent. 
The  monks  offered  us  a place  in  the  garden,  where  we 
could  pitch  our  tents  under  the  blossoming  almond-trees. 
But  no  ; I wished  to  be  not  outside,  but  “ within  the 
gates,”  and  gently  urged  the  matter,  till  the  Archiman- 
drite said  he  would  see  what  they  could  do,  and  after  send- 
ing to  inquire,  in  a few  minutes  conducted  us  to  a couple 
of  rooms  on  the  third  story,  at  the  end  of  a long  corridor. 
My  room  was  in  the  extreme  angle,  at  the  farthest  corner, 
where,  as  I looked  out  of  the  window,  it  seemed  as  if  I 
were  perched  up  in  the  signal-tower  of  a fortress.  The 
wall  even  on  this  story  was  three  feet  thick,  and  the  win- 
dow was  secured  by  heavy  iron  bars — a precaution  which 
was  necessary  in  the  grim  old  days,  to  keep  an  enemy  from 
getting  in,  if  not  a prisoner  from  getting  out.  But  no 
matter  : though  it  had  been  barred  like  a dungeon,  the 
window  had  a pretty  lookout  up  the  valley,  and  through  it 
came  a cool,  refreshing  breeze.  The  door  opened  on  the 
corridor,  which  looked  down  upon  the  whole  interior  of 
the  Convent.  Our  dragoman  and  cook  found  quarters  in 
the  court  below,  and  served  our  meals  on  this  corridor, 
and  took  the  whole  care  of  our  rooms.  A few  feet  from 
my  door  a cannon  peered  out  of  a port-hole  (there  were 
several  small  pieces  of  artillery  along  the  corridor  and 
mounted  on  the  walls),  and  in  my  room  was  a picture  of 
the  Virgin,  before  which,  as  a slirine,  a lamp  was  kept 
burning,  so  that  I was  protected  both  by  earthly  and  heav- 


108 


COMING  TO  THE  FOOT  OF  SINAI. 


enly  powers.  The  room  was  plain  enough  for  any  monk, 
but  it  was  clean  (the  walls  had  been  whitewashed)  ; and 
though  the  floor  was  of  brick,  yet  the  rug  which  the  drag- 
oman spread  over  it  made  it  soft  to  the  feet.  At  least  it 
was  a place  of  rest,  which  was  sorely  needed  after  the 
fatigues  of  our  long  marches.  I was  very  much  exhausted, 
in  spite  of  the  excitement  ; indeed  the  excitement  itself 
was  exhausting.  And  so  with  a gratitude  that  cannot  be 
expressed,  we  lay  down  that  night  and  slept  at  the  foot  of 
Horeb,  the  Mount  of  God. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 

When  we  reached  the  Convent,  I felt  that  I was  “ dead,” 
and  should  leave  my  bones  with  those  of  the  Israelites  that 
fell  in  the  wilderness  ; but  the  next  morning,  when  the  sun 
crept  in  through  the  iron  bars  of  my  window,  I awoke  with 
a dreamy  sort  of  feeling,  as  half  in  doubt  where  or  what  I 
was.  A Convent  is  a ghostly  place,  and  one  may  easily  get 
a feeling  as  if  he  were  a pale  wanderer  in  the  shades  below. 
Several  times  in  the  night  I had  been  awaked  by  a deep 
sepulchral  sound.  It  was  not  the  Convent  bell,  but  a stroke 
on  a heavy  bar  of  iron,  which  called  the  monks  to  prayer. 
This  added  to  the  strangeness  of  the  place,  so  that  whe- 
ther I was  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body,  I could  not  tell. 
But  daylight  scatters  the  ghosts  that  have  come  about  us 
in  the  night,  so  that  when  the  sun  was  fully  risen,  I began 
slowly  to  come  back  to  this  world  ; and  as  I looked  out  of 
the  window,  and  saw  the  camels  lying  in  the  yard  of  the 
Convent,  I realized  at  last  that 'we  were  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Sinai,  whose  top  we  hoped  to  reach  that  very  day. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o’clock  when  we  mounted  and  filed 
slowly  out  of  the  arched  gateway.  Our  path  led  round  to 
the  rear  of  the  Convent.  At  the  end  of  the  valley  is  a 
conical  hill,  on  which  it  is  said  that  Mahomet  once  had  an 
audience  with  God  ; for  the  Moslems  will  have  it  that  their 
Prophet  was  in  no  wise  inferior  to  Moses.  It  is  quite  pos- 
sible that  the  tradition  is  true,  that  in  his  youth,  when  a 
mere  camel-driver,  he  wandered  among  these  hills,  and 


110 


OX  THE  TOP  OF  MOUXT  SINAI. 


perhaps  caught  from  the  legends  of  Moses  the  idea  of 
making  the  daring  attempt  to  assume  the  part  of  a Prophet 
of  God  ; and  that  again  he  came  after  he  had  promulgated 
his  visions,  and  met  with  success  beyond  his  utmost  belief, 
when  he  proudly  assumed  the  role  of  protector.  It  gives 
one  an  idea  of  the  age  of  the  Convent,  to  remember  that 
it  is  older  than  Mahomet  : it  was  founded  by  the  Emperor 
Justinian  in  the  year  555,  so  that  it  has  been  standing  more 
than  thirteen  centuries ! The  early  monks  felt  the  need  of 
making  friends  with  the  new  power  which  had  just  risen 
in  Arabia,  and  was  attacking  and  destroying  on  every  side, 
and  so  sought  and  received  from  Mahomet  a pledge  of  his 
protection.  He  could  not  write,  but  dipping  his  broad 
hand  in  ink  (it  might  have  been  in  blood,  for  the  color  is 
red),  gave  the  imprint  of  his  open  palm.  That  was  a sig- 
nature which  could  not  be  mistaken.  A copy  of  this  bloody 
hand  is  hung  up  in  the  room  in  which  I am  now  writing  ; 
the  original  is  said  to  be  in  Constantinople,  though  I can 
hear  of  no  one  who  has  seen  it  ; but  tradition  supports 
the  fact  of  its  existence  ; and  to  this  pledge  of  the  Prophet 
the  monks  have  often  appealed,  and  it  is  due  to  it  that  the 
Convent  has  not  been  long  since  destroyed. 

Continuing  our  course,  we  began  to  wind  round  the  base 
of  the  mountain.  Now  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  pilgrims 
to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.  It  did  not  need  that  a monk 
should  be  sitting  by  the  wayside,  as  in  the  old  time,  to 
ask  “ Alio  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord,  or  who 
shall  stand  in  His  holy  place  ? ” and  after  hearing  our 
confession,  to  grant  us  absolution  : for  were  we  not  be- 
ginning, where  Bunyan’s  Pilgrim  began,  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Sinai,  a journey  which  was  to  end  only  at  the 
Celestial  City  ? Though  our  progress  was  slow,  yet  wm 
were  “ stepping  heavenward.”  There  was  something  like 
one  s Christian  experience  even  in  this  indirect  approach. 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAL 


111 


It  was  as  if  we  could  not  face  the  Mount,  and  go  up 
straight  into  the  cloud,  hut  must  approach  by  a way  more 
gentle  and  winding,  but  in  which,  though  we  seemed  to 
be  only  going  round  and  round,  we  were  all  the  while 
climbing  higher  and  higher.  Gradual  as  was  the  ascent, 
yet  we  knew  that  we  were  slowly  mounting  : for  as  we 
looked  backward  now  and  then,  we  perceived  by  compari- 
son with  surrounding  heights  that  we  had  reached  a greater 
elevation.  As  they  sank  lower,  we  knew  that  we  had  risen 
higher.  A camel’s  back  is  a good  perch  from  which  to  look 
down  into  deep  mountain  valleys.  But  there  came  a point 
where  we  must  leave  the  camels,  and  continue  on  foot. 
The  ascent,  however,  is  not  to  be  compared  to  that  of 
Serbal  ; indeed  it  is  not  at  all  difficult,  for  pious  hands  have 
piled  up  stones  as  rude  steps  for  the  feet  of  pilgrims,  so 
that  we  go  up  slowly,  but  steadily  and  easily,  to  the  top  of 
the  Mount.  Biding  and  walking,  the  whole  time  of  the 
ascent  from  the  Convent  was  less  than  three  hours,  while 
that  of  Serbal  was  six. 

We  were  now  on  Jebel  Mousa,  the  summit  which  an- 
cient tradition  assigns  as  the  place  of  the  giving  of  the 
Law  ; although,  as  we  shall  see,  later  explorers  incline  to 
another  peak  of  the  same  mountain  which  more  directly 
overlooks  the  plain  of  Er  Bahah.  Jebel  Mousa  is  over  six 
hundred  feet  higher  than  Serbal,  though  in  appearance  it 
is  less  imposing.  But  it  is  a magnificent  dome  of  rock. 
As  I crept  to  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  the  dragoman  grasped 
me  by  the  arm  and  drew  me  back,  lest  I should  be  made 
giddy  by  the  fearful  height  : for  one  slip  there,  and  I 
should  be  dashed  a thousand  feet  below.  The  view  also 
is  of  great  extent,  and  very  similar  in  its  general  charac- 
ter to  that  from  Serbal,  with  the  same  vast  stretch  over 
the  Peninsula — the  same  waters  of  the  Bed  Sea  encom- 
passing the  same  wilderness  of  mountains.  But  the  objec- 


112 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


tion  to  Serbal  being  the  Mount  of  the  Law  applies  equally 
to  Jebel  Mousa,  that  there  is  no  broad  jolain  undor  it 
in  which  the  whole  congregation  of  Israel  might  stand. 
Wadies  enough  there  are  in  sight,  but  scattered  here 
and  there  in  a way  to  raise  a doubt  as  to  its  being  the 
chosen  summit,  especially  when  one  finds  another  point 
near  at  hand  where  all  the  conditions  are  supplied.  But 
for  the  hour  or  two  that  we  rest  here,  we  may  give 
ourselves  up  to  the  sacred  associations  of  a spot  which 
has  been  consecrated  by  the  reverent  faith  of  many  gen- 
erations. Here  Moslem  and  Christian  can  join  in  wor- 
ship, for  on  the  top  stand  side  by  side  a small  Greek 
chapel  and  a little  mosque.  We  found  nothing  to  excite 
our  devotion  in  the  tinselled  Greek  chapel,  but  sat  rever- 
ently without  on  the  rock  while  Dr.  Post  read  out  of  his 
Arabic  Bible  the  Ten  Commandments.  But  the  dragoman 
of  the  other  American  party,  who  was  a devout  Moslem, 
entered  the  mosque,  and  with  his  face  turned  towards 
Mecca,  bowed  himself  in  low  prostrations,  swinging  his 
head  from  side  to  side,  and  calling  upon  Allah.  The  Mos- 
lems have  great  reverence  for  the  Hebrew  Lawgiver,  whom 
they  always  speak  of  as  “ our  Lord  Moses,”  and  whose  name 
they  like  to  associate  with  that  of  Mahomet  as  the  two 
Prophets  of  God,  and  make  pilgrimages  to  Jebel  Mousa, 
where  they  show  in  the  rock  the  footprint  of  Mahomet’s 
camel ! If  any  be  surprised  that  there  should  be  only  one 
footprint,  yet  be  not  incredulous,  O gentle  reader,  for  this 
is  easily  explained  when  you  consider  that  the  sacred 
camel  only  touched  the  top  of  the  rock  as  he  flew  through 
the  air,  bearing  the  prophet  from  Mecca  to  Jerusalem ! 
Moslem  traditions  vary  on  this  point,  some  affirming  that 
the  camel  stood  with  legs  outstretched,  one  foot  in  Cairo, 
one  in  Damascus,  one  in  Mecca,  and  one  on  Sinai,  from 
which  he  was  carried  up  into  heaven,  with  his  rider  on  his 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


113 


back,  by  the  Angel  Gabriel ! Of  two  miracles,  tbe  true 
believer  will  always  choose  the  greater.  Some  of  the 
Christian  traditions  which  have  gathered  about  Mount 
Sinai  are  hardly  more  worthy  of  credit.  The  attempt  of 
the  monks  to  localize  every  event  has  led  to  many  designa- 
tions which  are  quite  absurd.  Still  wre  cannot  repress 
some  degree  of  feeling  as  we  creep  into  a cleft  of  the  rock 
in  which  it  is  said  Moses  hid  himself  when  the  Lord 
passed  by  ; or  into  the  reputed  cave  in  which  Elijah  hid 
himself  when  he  fled  from  the  wrath  of  Jezebel,  after  he 
had  slain  the  prophets  of  Baal. 

We  now  descended  Jebel  Mousa  to  a valley  midway 
between  this  and  the  other  peak  which  is  now  more  com- 
monly believed  to  have  been  the  Mount  of  the  I^aw.  This 
valley  contains  a remarkable  willow,  which  gives  to  the 
mountain  before  us  the  name  of  Has  Sufsafeh,  the  Moun- 
tain of  the  Willow,  and  well  entitled  it  is  to  such  an  honor, 
if  what  the  monks  tell  us  be  true,  that  it  is  the  very  one 
from  which  Moses  cut  the  rod  with  which  he  smote  the 
rock  and  made  the  waters  flow ! How  they  know  that  the 
tree  was  a willow,  it  is  for  them  to  say,  or  how  it  should 
possess  such  remarkable  vitality  that  it  has  been  preserved 
to  this  day.  It  looks  as  if  it  might  be  fifty  years  old ! 
Here  in  a pass  between  rocks,  under  a huge  granite 
boulder,  is  a spring  of  water  which  the  Arabs  say  never 
fails.  It  was  .very  grateful  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  espe- 
cially as  we  found  snow  in  a cleft  of  the  rocks,  which, 
added  to  the  natural  coldness  of  the  spring,  gave  us  ice 
water  on  Mount  Sinai.  Here  we  rested  for  some  minutes, 
bathing  our  foreheads,  before  we  began  another  mountain 
climb. 

At  the  willow  Dr.  Post  left  me  for  an  hour,  to  make  a 
different  ascent.  Near  to  Bus  Sufsafeh  is  a second  peak 
which  commands  the  same  sight  of  Er  Itahali  in  front,  and 


114 


ON  THE  TOP  OP  MOUNT  SINAI. 


which,  he  thought,  might  also  take  in  a wady  on  the  East, 
making  the  whole  view  more  extensive.  To  determine 
this  point,  he  proposed  to  ascend  it.  But  the  monk  from 
the  "Convent,  who  accompanied  us  as  a more  learned  con- 
ductor than  the  Arab  guides,  at  once  frowned  on  the  sug- 
gestion by  declaring  it  “ impossible,”  that  it  “ had  never 
been  done,”  that,  in  short,  it  was  a spot  “ where  no  human 
foot  had  ever  trod  ” ! It  did  look  very  perpendicular,  but 
Dr.  Post  was  not  quite  willing  to  accept  the  assurance  that 
it  was  inaccessible.  Spying  it  round  from  different  points, 
he  thought  he  discovered  on  the  top  a small  cairn  of 
stones,  a sort  of  rude  altar,  a proof  that  human  feet  had 
been  there  and  human  hands  also  ; and  while  the  grizzled 
old  monk  looked  aghast  at  the  presumption  and  almost 
impiety  of  attempting  to  do  what  no  one  had  done  before, 
he  set  forward,  telling  one  of  the  Arab  guides  to  follow 
him.  He  is  a capital  mountaineer,  springing  from  rock  to 
rock  like  a chamois,  and  climbing  wherever  a goat  could  set 
its  foot,  and  in  half  an  hour  he  shouted  to  me  from  the  very 
pinnacle  of  the  peak  which  “ no  human  foot  had  ever  trod.” 

Meanwhile,  with  two  other  guides  I had  been  slowly 
making  my  way  up  the  rocky  steep  of  Has  Sufsafeh.  It  is 
a pretty  hard  climb,  but  it  seemed  light  compared  with 
that  of  Serbal,  and  in  an  hour  we  stood  on  the  very  top. 
This  is  the  jrnak  from  which  Dr.  Robinson,  after  careful 
exploration  of  all  the  points  of  the  Sinai  group,  believed 
that  the  Law  was  given  ; and  when  I reached  the  summit 
and  looked  down  into  the  plain  of  Er  Rahah,  I saw  at  once 
the  reasons  which  led  him  to  this  conclusion,  for  here  all 
the  conditions  are  met,  and  I no  longer  doubted  that  I was 
standing  on  the  holy  mount.  On  the  very  front  and  fore- 
head of  the  cliff,  stands  a tremendous  boulder,  which  seems 
as  if  it  might  have  been  the  “ pulpit  ” of  the  great  Law- 
giver. To  this  I climbed,  or  rather  was  dragged  up  by  the 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


115 


Arabs,  and  here  looked  down  on  a spot  which  had  wit- 
nessed the  most  august  event  in  human  history,  except 
that  which  took  place  on  Calvary.  I now  sent  the  guides 
away  to  a little  distance,  though  not  beyond  call,  for  there 
are  moments  when  one  must  be  alone  to  get  the  full  force 
of  sacred  associations,  and  here  where  Moses  talked  with 
Clod,  one  feels  that  he  is  face  to  face  with  his  Maker. 
'When  left  quite  alone  in  the  awful  solitude  of  the  moun- 
tain, one  feels  that  he  is  on  holy  ground.  I did  not,  after 
the  Oriental  custom,  take  off  my  shoes  from  my  feet,  but 
after  the  Western  sign  of  reverence,  uncovered  my  head, 
as  when  one  enters  a cathedral  where  he  must  speak  in  a 
whispered  voice,  and  move  about  with  noiseless  steps. 

Coming  to  such  a height  of  vision,  one  feels  as  if  he 
had  come  to  a point  in  his  own  life,  and  a personal  feel- 
ing mingles  with  that  inspired  by  the  scene,  so  that  one 
flows  into  the  other.  As  I looked  down  from  the  top  of 
Sinai,  I saw  not  only  the  deep  passes  winding  away  into 
the  mountains,  I saw  the  winding  course  of  a lifetime  that 
had  at  last  brought  me  to  this  sj)ot ; and  how  could  one 
who  felt  that  he  was  but  a pilgrim,  tarrying  not  even  for  a 
night,  but  only  for  an  hour,  help  breathing  a prayer  to 
Him  who  of  old  led  His  people  across  these  deserts  and 
through  these  mountains,  that  He  would  guide  his  wan- 
dering steps  aright ! And  then  somehow  there  came  into 
my  heart  and  to  my  lips  the  words  of  the  Twenty-third 
Psalm,  and  standing  there  alone  with  uncovered  head, 
I found  myself  repeating  the  blessed  assurance,  in  the 
strength  of  which  I shall  go  all  my  days  : “The  Lord  is 
my  shepherd  : I shall  not  want.  He  maketh  me  to  lie 
down  in  green  pastures  : He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still 
waters.  Yea,  though  I walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  I will  fear  no  evil : for  thou  art  with 
me  ; thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  me.” 


116 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


Tlie  spell  was  broken  by  sbouts  down  the  mountain, 
and  presently  Dr.  Post  appeared  with  the  other  American 
party,  and  all  together  we  studied  the  features  of  the 
mountain  and  the  plain  as  related  to  each  other.  Looking 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  we  could  see  how  perfectly  it 
answered  to  the  description  of  “ the  mount  that  might  be 
touched,”  for  the  plain  came  up  to  its  very  base,  and  at 
the  same  time  there  were  low-lying  mounds  at  the  foot, 
which  seemed  to  mark  where  bounds  had  been  set  against 
too  near  an  approach.  As  to  the  extent  of  open  space, 
wide  as  it  was,  Dr.  Post  reported  that  the  other  peak 
which  he  had  climbed  commanded  a view  still  wider  ; 
that,  while  it  was  in  the  very  axis  of  the  plain  of  Er 
Eahah,  it  took  in  also  a wady  on  the  other  side,  which 
furnished  standing  ground  for  perhaps  half  a million 
more.  Hence  he  inclines  to  the  opinion  that  this  was  the 
peak  which  Dr.  Robinson  ascended,  as  it  answers  more 
exactly  to  the  description  he  has  given.  But  after  all,  the 
question  whether  it  was  this  or  that,  does  not  seem  very 
important,  for  the  whole  group  is  comprised  under  the 
general  name  of  Sinai,  and  the  Divine  manifestation  may 
have  included  them  all.  “ The  mountain  was  altogether 
on  a smoke,”  and  to  the  multitude  that  looked  upward  it 
may  have  seemed  as  if  all  were  wrapped  in  the  volume  of 
dense,  rolling  cloud.  Those  who  have  witnessed  an  erup- 
tion of  Vesuvius  from  the  Bay  of  Naples,  remember  that 
at  times  great  masses  of  smoke  roll  down  the  mountain 
side,  and  then  clear  away,  and  flames  shoot  up  to  a vast 
height,  reddening  the  sky,  while  at  the  same  time  they  are 
reflected  in  the  faces  of  a multitude  of  spectators  white 
with  terror,  as  if  the  Dies  Irse  had  come  and  the  very  heav- 
ens were  on  fire.  If  amid  this  scene,  the  grandest  and 
most  awful  that  Nature  ever  presents,  a voice  were  heard 
issuing  out  of  the  cloud  and  rolling  down  the  breast  of  the 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


117 


mountain,  we  might  form  some  faint  conception  of  the 
mingled  majesty  and  terror  of  the  sight  when  the  Lord 
descended  upon  Sinai.  From  the  top  we  observed  what 
we  had  noticed  in  the  plain,  that  the  ground  is  lowest 
nearest  the  mountain,  and  that  it  rises  as  it  recedes,  like 
the  seats  of  an  amphitheatre,  so  that  all  converge  to  one 
point,  which  is  the  centre  of  the  scene.  At  the  farther  end 
of  the  plain,  the  surface  is  more  broken,  rising  and  falling 
in  gentle  undulations,  so  that  if  any  fled  terror-stricken 
from  the  base  of  the  mount,  they  could  still  behold  it  afar 
off,  from  the  distant  slopes,  while  they  heard  the  mighty 
voice  that  swept  across  the  plain,  and  reverberated  like 
thunder  in  the  farthest  recesses  of  the  mountains.  No 
wonder  that  those  who  stood  trembling  at  the  sight  said 
to  Moses,  “ Speak  thou  with  us  and  we  w'ill  hear,  but  let 
not  God  speak  with  us  lest  we  die.” 

But  what  need,  asks  the  sneerer  at  Moses,  of  such 
grand  “ pyrotechnics  ” to  attend  the  giving  of  the  Law  ? 
Why  should  “ the  heavens  be  cu  fire  ” except  it  were  to 
illuminate  a world?  What  need  of  all  this  array  of  clouds 
and  storms,  of  lightnings  and  thunderings  ? Was  there 
a king  to  be  crowned?  Not  one  of  the  Pharaohs  ever 
saw  such  a sight  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  But  here  there 
was  neither  king  nor  crown,  nor  any  of  the  signs  of  royalty. 
Only  a law  was  to  be  proclaimed  ; and  that  not  a com- 
plete system  of  legislation,  but  only  Ten  Commandments, 
expressed  in  few  words.  There  is  an  apparent  want  of 
harmony  in  such  magnificent  preparations  to  usher  in  such 
a feeble  conclusion.  And  yet  somehow  this  Law,  so  small 
in  volume,  has  lived  for  thousands  of  years,  and  promises 
to  live  to  the  end  of  time.  Standing  here  on  the  rocky 
height  where  it  was  given,  we  cannot  forbear  some  reflec- 
tions on  the  peculiar  features  of  a Law  thus  proclaimed, 
which  had  such  an  origin,  and  was  to  have  such  a history. 


118 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


The  Ten  Commandments  are  commonly  divided  into 
two  Tables — that  which  concerns  the  worship  of  God,  and 
that  which  treats  of  the  relations  of  men  to  each  other. 
First  and  foremost  is  the  idea  of  God.  That  is  central  and 
supreme,  standing  in  the  very  front  of  the  law,  as  it  does 
of  the  Bible.  The  first  sentence  of  the  Bible  is  “ In  the 
beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth.”  Author 
of  all  things,  He  is  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  law, 
as  of  all  religion.  The  first  command  of  the  Decalogue 
announces  the  principle  of  Monotheism — that  there  is  only 
one  living  and  true  God,  who  is  the  Creator  of  all  things, 
and  the  only  object  of  human  worship.  “ Thou  shalt  have 
no  other  gods  before  me.”  How  short  the  sentence,  and 
yet  it  rules  the  world ! This  morning,  as  the  sun  came 
from  the  East,  it  touched  the.  gilded  domes,  not  only  of 
Cairo  and  Damascus  and  Constantinople,  but  of  ten  thou- 
sand mosques  all  over  the  Mohammedan  world,  and  from 
all  their  minarets  the  voice  of  the  muezzin  cried  “ God  is 
God  : there  is  no  God  but  God  ” — words  which  were  but 
the  faint,  far-off  echo  of  those  spoken  on  Sinai  two  thou- 
sand years  before  Mahomet  was  born.  What  meaning  did 
the  word  God  convey  to  the  mind  of  the  Hebrew  who  had 
come  out  of  Egypt  ? It  did  not  recall  the  legend  of  Isis  or 
Osiris.  It  did  not  present  for  his  worship  the  vague  incar- 
nation of  a principle  of  good  or  evil,  but  a living  Being,  a 
Divine  Guardian  and  Protector.  Well  might  that  sacred 
name  stand  in  the  very  front  of  a law  of  which  God  was 
the  beginning  and  the  end. 

The  second  command  is  aimed  at  the  idolatrous  wor- 
ship which  the  Israelites  had  learned  in  Egypt,  and  to 
which  they  clung  with  such  strange  infatuation.  The 
third,  “ Not  to  take  the  name  of  God  in  vain,”  inculcated 
that  reverence  in  word  which  must  accompany  obedience 
in  act.  The  fourth  has  this  peculiarity,  that  whereas  a 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


119 


command  is  usually  an  ordinance  of  labor,  this  is  an  ordi- 
nance of  rest.  “ Six  days  shalt  thou  labor,  and  do  all  thy 
work,  but  the  seventh  day  is  the  Sabbath  of  the  Lord  thy 
God ; in  it  thou  shalt  not  do  any  worlc.”  For  one  day  in 
seven  the  perpetual  grind  of  life  ceases  ; the  wheels  stand 
still  ; the  laborer  lays  down  his  burden.  This  is  a bless- 
ing disguised  as  a command,  a Divine  benediction  on  an 
overburdened  world. 

Next  to  the  reverence  which  we  owe  to  our  Maker,  is 
that  which  we  owe  to  those  who  are,  in  another  sense,  the 
authors  of  our  being,  and  so  to  the  command  to  worship 
God  follows  “ Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother.”  This 
consecrates  the  family  relation.  “ Honor  ” includes  love, 
reverence,  and  obedience — a trinity  of  virtues,  out  of  which 
flowers  and  blossoms  all  that  is  most  beautiful  in  human 
character. 

And  now  follow  five  commands  regulating  the  relations 
of  men  to  each  other,  which  are  the  most  remarkable  sum- 
mary of  law  in  all  the  annals  of  legislation — remarkable 
because  they  compact  into  few  words  the  sum  of  all 
wisdom,  as  approved  by  the  universal  experience  of  man- 
kind. For  example,  in  these  two  commands,  “ Thou  shalt 
not  kill  ” and  “ Thou  shalt  not  steal,”  each  of  which  is 
stated  in  four  words,  and  four  words  of  one  syllable,  is 
contained  the  seed-principle  of  protection  to  person  and 
property,  which  is  the  germ  of  all  civilized  society.  These 
precepts,  so  brief — we  might  almost  say,  so  minute  in  their 
brevity  and  condensation — comprehend  all  the  laws  that 
were  ever  enacted  to  guard  the  lives  and  the  possessions 
of  men. 

“ Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery  ” — thou  shalt  not  sin 
thyself,  nor  tempt  others  to  sin.  This  guards,  as  a holy 
shrine,  the  virtue  of  man  and  woman  ; it  watches  like  an 
angel  over  the  purity  of  domestic  life,  and  drives  away  the 


120 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


foul  fiends  of  passion  and  lust,  and  fills  tlie  dwelling  with 
that  sweet,  pure,  trustful  love,  which  makes  home  the  type 
of  heaven. 

“ Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against  thy  neighbor.” 
This  guards  character  and  reputation  against  evil  eyes  as 
well  as  slanderous  tongues  ; against  the  looks  as  well  as 
words  by  wThich  one  casts  a shade  on  another’s  good  name, 
which  is  dearer  to  him  than  life. 

“ Thou  shalt  not  covet  ” — not  only  shalt  thou  not  rob 
or  defraud  thy  neighbor,  thou  shalt  not  even  desire  that 
which  is  his— it  is  the  fruit  of  liis  labor,  leave  it  to  his 
enjoyment,  and  be  content  with  thine  own.  This  protects 
your  neighbor,  and  by  its  reverse  action  protects  you  also, 
not  only  from  violence  and  wrong,  but  from  the  least 
approach  of  covetous  desire.  If  this  one  command  were 
obeyed,  what  contentment  and  what  peace  would  it  bring 
into  every  home  and  into  every  heart. 

That  is  all.  There  are  but  ten  commandments,  no  less 
and  no  more.  These  last  five  seem  almost  too  brief  and 
too  simple.  But  do  they  not  cover  the  whole  field  ? What 
crime  is  there  against  person  or  property,  against  a man’s 
life  or  his  honor,  against  his  virtue  or  his  good  name,  which 
they  do  not  forbid  ? Tell  us,  legislator  or  philosopher,  if 
vou  have  anything  to  add  to  this  brief  code?  What 
interest  of  man  does  it  leave  unprotected  ? 

The  more  we  reflect  upon  it,  the  more  the  wonder 
grows.  The  framework  of  laws  in  a nation  is  the  work  of 
ages,  but  here  the  whole  is  compressed  into  a space  so 
small  that  it  could  be  written  on  a man’s  hand.  Different 
nations  have  obtained  their  rights  at  the  price  of  great 
sacrifices — rights  which  are  summed  up  in  certain  great 
charters,  such  as  the  Magna  Charta  of  England  and  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  of  America.  As  these  con- 
tain the  principles  of  Universal  Liberty,  so  does  this  sec- 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


121 


ond  table  of  tbe  law  contain  the  principles  of  Universal 
Justice.  If  it  were  obeyed,  there  is  not  an  act  of  injustice 
which  could  find  a place  among  men.  Is  it  then  too  much 
to  say  that  the  Ten  Commandments  are  the  acorn  which 
contains  the  oak  of  civilization  ? Who  can  measure  the 
germinating  power  of  a great  principle  of  j ustice— how  it 
multiplies  itself  in  its  application  to  different  countries 
and  races,  adapting  itself  to  all  times  and  climes,  to  all 
the  relations  of  men  as  they  may  change  to  the  end  of  the 
world  ? It  is  the  handful  of  corn  in  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain, but  the  fruit  thereof  shakes  like  Lebanon.  To  a law 
so  beneficent,  is  it  possible  to  ascribe  an  origin  too  high 
or  too  sacred  ? Law  in  its  highest  form  has  always  been 
regarded  as  the  emanation  of  Divinity.  “ Law,”  says 
Hooker,  “ has  her  seat  in  the  bosom  of  God,  and  her  voice 
is  the  harmony  of  the  world.  All  things  in  heaven  and 
earth  do  her  homage— the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care, 
and  the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from  her  power.”  There 
is  a natural  fitness  in  a Law  so  Divine  being  delivered  from 
the  skies.  The  greatest  of  living  English  poets,  when  he 
would  personify  Liberty,  beholds  her  “ on  the  heights  ” : 

“ Of  old  sat  Freedom  on  tlio  heights, 

The  thunders  breaking  at  her  feet; 

Above  her  shook  the  starry  lights : 

She  heard  the  torrents  meet. 

“ Within  her  place  she  did  rejoice, 

Self-gathered  in  her  prophet  mind  ; 

But  fragments  of  her  mighty  voice 
Came  rolling  on  the  wind.” 

What  is  thus  spoken  of  Liberty  may  be  said  of  Law,  that 
Of  old  she  sat  upon  the  heights, 

The  thunders  breaking  at  her  feet : 

Even  more  than  Liberty  does  Law  deserve  to  be  thus 
lifted  up  in  the  sight  of  the  nations,  for  it  is  a higher  and 
a diviner  thing.  The  Universe  can  exist  without  Liberty ; 


122 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


it  cannot  exist  without  Law  ; and  if  we  might  apply  these 
majestic  lines  to  the  sacred  image  of  Law  enthroned  on 
the  cliffs  of  Sinai,  we  might  say  that  from  those  “ heights  ” 
not  only  do 

“ Fragments  of  her  mighty  voice 
Come  rolling  on  the  wind,” 

but  that  the  full  voice,  loud  and  clear,  speaks  to  all  the 
kindreds  of  mankind. 

Whence  then  had  this  man  this  wisdom?  He  was 
“learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,”  but  he  did 
not  find  it  there,  for  a paid  of  his  code  is  aimed  directly  at 
the  idolatries  which  were  universal  in  Egypt.  Where  then 
did  he  get  his  inspiration  ? This  is  for  those  who  are  fond 
of  pointing  out  the  Mistakes  of  Moses  to  answer.  They 
seem  not  to  reflect,  that  when  they  have  exhausted  their 
small  stock  of  wit  on  the  supernatural  proofs  of  his 
Divine  mission,  (as  when,  for  example,  they  suggest  that  he 
took  advantage  of  a thunder  storm,  which  came  up  while 
he  was  on  the  mountain,  to  work  upon  the  fears  and  the 
credulity  of  the  people  !)  and  have  thus  disposed,  as  they 
imagine,  of  the  miracles  of  Moses,  they  leave  the  great 
miracle  untouched  : it  is  the  Law  itself.  They  have 
explained  the  lightnings  and  the  thunderings  : let  them 
explain  the  Law.  That  remains  a great  fact  m history, 
harder  and  more  unyielding  than  the  granite  dome  of 
Mount  Sinai  itself.  Where  did  Moses  get  that  Law  ? Those 
who,  while  they  disparage  the  Bible,  are  ready  to  do  honor  to 
all  other  religions,  to  their  founders  and  their  sacred  books, 
would  willingly  ascribe  it  to  Buddha,  whose  Five  Command- 
ments so  nearly  correspond  to  the  Second  Table  of  the 
Law.  Nor  would  it  daunt  them  in  the  least  that  it  would 
oblige  them  to  follow  those  Commandments  of  Buddha  from 
India  across  the  whole  breadth  of  Asia  ; but  unfortunately 
Moses  lived  and  died  more  than  eight  hundred  years  be- 


ON  THE  TOP  OF  MOUNT  SINAI. 


123 


fore  Buddha  was  bom ! The  ingenuity  of  unbelief  must 
devise  some  other  explanation.  It  is  enough  for  us,  as  we 
come  down  from  the  Mount,  to  accept  reverently  the  assur- 
ance that  the  Law  which  Moses  gave  to  the  Hebrews  was 
written  with  the  finger  of  God  on  tables  of  stone. 

Such  thoughts,  suggested  by  such  sights,  gave  a sacred 
interest  to  the  hours  that  we  stood  on  Mount  Sinai,  and 
filled  our  minds  with  a strange  wonder  as  we  left  that 
hoary  summit.  We  sent  back  the  camels,  and  came  down 
by  a more  direct  but  more  precipitous  descent,  through 
the  Valley  of  Jethro,  so  called  because  half  way  down  the 
mountain,  under  a projecting  rock,  is  a perpetual  spring 
which  bears  that  name.  To  this  point  no  doubt  Moses 
often  climbed  when  he  watched  the  flocks  of  Jethro,  and 
sat  for  hour's  beneath  the  shade  of  the  rock  beside  the 
cooling  spring,  and  perhaps  found  the  same  graceful  ferns 
that  grow  there  still.  In  the  association  of  everything 
about  Sinai  with  the  great  Hebrew  Lawgiver,  it  is  pleasant 
to  know  that  nature  remains  unchanged.  These  granite 
cliffs  do  not  wear  away  by  time,  or  but  .slowly  in  the  lapse 
of  ages.  So  the  fern  still  grows,  and  the  water  flows,  and 
we  may  gather  to-day  from  the  dripping  rocks  the  same 
delicate  maiden’s  hair  which  Moses  gathered  for  the 
daughter  of  Jethro  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago. 


CHAPTEB  X. 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH  FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 

After  we  had  made  the  ascent  of  Mount  Sinai,  we  set- 
tled down  for  a few  days  to  a quiet  life  in  the  Convent, 
dividing  our  time  between  excursions  without  and  reading 
and  writing  within.  One  needs  a little  time  to  set  his 
thoughts  in  order  after  such  an  experience.  The  ascent  of 
Mount  Sinai  is  an  event  in  one’s  life,  and  the  reflections  it 
suggests  do  not  pass  away  with  the  place  and  the  hour. 
Standing  on  that  height,  one  is  at  the  very  beginnings  of 
history  : there  a religion  was  promulgated  ; there  a state 
was  born  ; and  there  a code  of  laws  was  given  which  has 
influenced  the  legislation  of  all  after  times.  As  we  linger 
at  the  foot  of  the  Mount,  our  thoughts  run  on  along  the 
line  of  that  history  which  had  its  beginning  here.  Of 
course  one  great  name  fills  our  minds,  as  it  fills  all  the 
spaces  of  these  mountains.  Believing  that  the  world  owes 
more  to  Moses  than  to  any  other  character  that  appeared 
in  history  before  the  time  of  Christ,  it  seems  the  part  of 
loyalty  to  recognize  his  influence  in  the  work  of  human 
progress  and  civilization,  and  thus  to  vindicate  his  claim  to 
the  homage  and  the  gratitude  of  mankind.  To  this  we  are 
the  more  inclined,  as  it  is  a fashion  of  the  day  to  sneer  at 
Moses.  Those  who  would  destroy  the  authority  of  the  i 
Bible,  make  it  almost  a first  point  to  direct  their  attacks 
against  one  whose  name  stands  in  front  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, as  the  name  of  One  greater  than  Moses  stands  in 
front  of  the  New.  Even  writers  upon  Law,  who  concede 


TIIE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH. 


125 


to  Moses  a place  with  Solon  and  Lycurgus  among  the  law- 
givers of  antiquity,  yet  sometimes  qualify  their  praise  by  im- 
plying that  Moses  was  great,  and  that  his  Law  was  great,  by 
comparison  with  ancient  barbarism  rather  than  with  mod- 
ern civilization.  It  may  therefore  serve  a useful  purpose 
to  devote  a few  pages  to  considering  the  character  of  his 
legislation,  that  we  may  judge  whether  it  lies  in  the  liue  of 
barbarism  or  of  civilization.  Is  the  Hebrew  Law  composed 
merely  of  the  arbitrary  decrees  of  one  who  ruled,  like  any 
Oriental  monarch,  with  absolute  authority,  and  whose  de- 
crees merely  registered  the  impulses  of  his  capricious  will  ? 
or  is  it  founded  in  principles  of  justice,  which  tit  it,  not  for 
one  age  alone,  but  for  all  ages  ; not  for  the  Hebrews  only, 
but  for  mankind  ? 

There  is  a very  common  reflection  upon  the  Hebrew 
Lawgiver,  which,  though  it  does  not  call  in  question  any 
particular  law,  is  yet  designed  to  vitiate  and  weaken  the 
impression  of  the  wThole — that  he  was  a stern  and  relent- 
less ruler,  who  may  indeed  have  understood  the  principles 
of  justice,  but  whose  justice  was  seldom  tempered  with 
mercy.  This  impression  is  derived  partly  at  least  from  the 
summary  way  in  which  in  several  instances  he  dealt  with 
rebellion.  To  this  kind  of  argument  there  is  one  brief  and 
sufficient  answer  : all  bodies  of  men  are  acknowledged  to 
have  the  right  to  resort  to  severe  penalties  when  encom- 
passed by  extraordinary  dangers.  The  children  of  Israel 
were  in  a position  of  great  peril,  and  their  safety  depended 
on  the  wisdom  and  firmness  of  one  man.  Never  had  a ruler 
a more  difficult  task.  Moses  did  not  legislate  for  the  ideal 
republic  of  Plato,  a community  of  perfect  beings,  but  for  a 
people  born  in  slavery,  from  which  they  had  but  just  broken 
away,  and  that  were  in  danger  of  becoming  ungovernable. 
Here  were  two  millions  and  a half,  who  had  not  even  a set- 
tled place  of  abode.  Had  they  been  dwelling  in  towns  and 


126 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


cities,  or  scattered  over  tlie  hillsides  of  Judea,  the  task  of 
ruling  them  would  have  been  easy.  But  they  were  a peo- 
ple without  a country,  and  not  yet  even  organized  into  a 
nation,  but  mustered  in  one  vast  camp,  through  which  re- 
bellion might  spread  in  a day.  Moses  had  to  govern  them 
' by  his  single  will.  He  had  to  do  everything  : to  direct 
their  marches,  to  order  their  battles,  and  even  to  provide 
for  their  subsistence  ; while  all  the  time  rose  up  around 
him,  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea,  the  factions  and  jealous- 
ies of  the  different  tribes. 

To  preserve  order  among  themselves,  and  to  guard 
against  hostile  attacks,  all  the  men  capable  of  bearing 
arms  were  organized  as  a military  body.  They  marched 
in  armed  array,  and  pitched  their  tents  around  the  stand- 
ards of  their  tribes.  For  the  safety  of  this  mighty  host, 
Moses  had  to  issue  strict  orders,  such  as  all  command- 
ers publish  to  their  armies.  In  every  military  code,  the 
first  requirement  is  subordination  to  the  chief.  Rebellion 
threatens  the  very  existence  of  an  army.  Whoever,  there- 
fore, attempts  to  stir  a whole  camp  to  rage  and  mutiny, 
must  expect  to  be  given  up  to  instant  death.  In  this 
Moses  only  enforced  the  ordinary  laws  of  war.  In  an  age 
when  we  have  seen  men  blown  away  from  guns — as  in  the 
Indian  Mutiny,  for  acts  of  mutiny  and  massacre,  or  by 
Wellington  for  the  lesser  offence  of  pillage — we  need  not 
be  troubled  to  answer  for  undue  severity  in  Moses  in  deal- 
ing with  what  threatened  anarchy,  and  if  unchecked,  would 
bring  inevitable  destruction.  He  suppressed  rebellion  as 
Cromwell  would  have  suppressed  it  : he  not  only  put  it 
i down,  but  stamped  it  out,  and  such  prompt  severity  was 
the  truest  humanity. 

But  it  is  not  acts  of  military  discipline  that  provoke 
the  criticism  of  modern  humanitarians,  so  much  as  those 
religious  laws  which  prescribed  the  God  whom  the  He- 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


127 


brews  should  worship,  and  punished  idolatry  and  blas- 
phemy as  the  greatest  of  crimes.  This  brings  up  the 
whole  question  of  religious  laws.  With  our  notions  of 
liberty,  any  laws  whatever  in  regard  to  man’s  faith  or  wor- 
ship seem  a violation  of  the  inalienable  rights  of  con- 
science. But  here  a ruler  prescribes  to  his  nation  the 
Being  to  be  worshipped,  and  enforces  conformity  by  the 
most  rigorous  statutes.  “ There  is  no  God  but  God,”  said 
Mahomet,  echoing  what  Moses  had  said  so  many  centuries 
before  ; and  not  Mahomet  himself  was  more  intolerant  of 
disobedience  or  contempt  of  the  Divine  authority.  Idol- 
atry was  put  down  by  force  of  arms.  This,  it  is  said, 
transcends  the  proper  sphere  of  human  law  : it  exalts 
ceremonies  into  duties,  and  denounces  as  crimes  acts 
which  have  no  moral  wrong.  Thus  it  rewards  without 
merit,  and  punishes  without  guilt.  Was  not  then  the  He- 
brew Law  wanting  in  the  first  principle  of  justice — free- 
dom to  all  religions  ? 

Now  it  is  quite  absurd  to  suppose  that  any  Israelite 
had  conscientious  scruples  against  this  worship,  or  seri- 
ously doubted  whether  Jehovah  or  Baal,  whose  bloody  sac- 
rifices had  been  offered  on  Mount  Serbal,  were  the  true 
God.  They  had  been  rescued  from  slavery  by  a direct  in- 
terposition of  the  Almighty.  The  sea  had  opened  its 
waves  for  their  passage  ; they  had  been  led  by  an  Al- 
mighty Deliverer  ; and  it  was  His  voice  which  they  heard 
from  the  cliffs  of  Sinai. 

But  it  was  not  merely  because  their  Religion  was  true, 
and  the  only  time  worship,  that  they  were  required  to  ac- 
cept it  ; but  because  also  of  the  peculiar  relation  which  its 
Divine  Author  had  assumed  towards  the  Hebrew  state  as 
its  Founder  and  Protector.  That  relation  was  declared, 
not  in  the  cold  and  stately  formula,  “ There  is  no  God  but 
God,”  but  in  words  which  are  warm  and  livin  as  with  the 


128 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


breath  of  the  Almighty,  “ I am  the  Lord  thy  God,  which 
brought  thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of 
bondage.”  In  all  their  wanderings  He  was  their  Leader. 
The  symbol  of  His  presence  went  before  them  as  a pillar 
of  clcud  by  day  and  a pillar  of  fire  by  night. 

By  keeping  in  mind  this  peculiar  relation  of  the  Divine 
Rider  to  the  state,  we  may  understand  the  whole  constitu- 
tion of  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth.  The  government  was 
not  a monarchy,  but  a theocracy.  They  had  no  King  but 
God  : He  was  the  only  Lord.  As  such,  no  act  of  disobedi- 
ence or  disrespect  to  His  authority,  could  be  light  or  small. 
The  most  extreme  instance  of  a punishment  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  offence,  is  that  in  which  a man  was  stoned 
for  gathering  sticks  on  the  Sabbath  day ! This  may  be 
said  to  be  the  pet  case  of  the  critics  who  sit  in  judgment 
upon  Moses,  and  they  do  not  fail  to  make  the  most  of  it  : 
“ What  an  exaggerated  importance  is  here  given  to  a petty 
offence,  and  how  inexorable  must  have  been  the  law  which 
punished  such  a trifle  with  death ! ” And  yet,  strange  to 
say,  the  story  is  told  in  perfect  frankness  and  simplicity, 
with  no  attempt  at  concealment  or  disguise,  as  if  the  act 
needed  any  explanation  or  apology.  Turning  to  the  nar- 
rative, we  find  that  this  is  a solitary  instance — that  it  stands 
alone  ; there  is  not  another  like  it  in  all  the  J ewish  history. 
Wherefore  it  was  probably  attended  with  unknown  aggra- 
vations. Acts  trivial  in  themselves  sometimes  derive  im- 
portance from  the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  com- 
mitted. This  may  have  been  done  publicly  and  purposely, 
as  an  affront  to  the  Divine  Majesty  ; as  an  open  defiance 
of  Him  who  had  ordained  the  Sabbath  as  a day  of  rest, 
to  be  kept  sacred  and  inviolable  ; and  so  it  may  have  been 
punished  as  a wanton  contempt  of  authority.  Trifling  as 
it  seemed,  it  was  a violation  of  an  express  command  lately 
given,  and  a wilful  offence  which  could  not  be  passed  over. 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


129 


Further,  the  unity  of  God  was  a centre  of  unity  for  the 
nation.  The  state  was  one  because  their  God  was  one. 
The  worship  of  Jehovah  alone  distinguished  the  Hebrews 
from  all  other  people,  and  preserved  their  separate  nation- 
ality. What  bond  of  union  could  hold  together  millions 
of  people  pouring  out  of  Egypt  in  wild  and  hurried  flight, 
and  scattering  afar  on  the  Arabian  deserts  ? Not  the  ties 
of  blood,  nor  even  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  No- 
thing but  their  common  religion,  which  was  one  and  indi- 
visible. The  maintenance  of  this  was  essential  to  their 
very  existence.  Once  throw  down  their  altars,  and  the 
whole  nation  would  crumble  to  pieces.  Admit  other  relig- 
ions, and  the  bond  which  held  together  the  Twelve  Tribes 
was  dissolved.  How  long  could  that  union  have  lasted  if 
the  prophets  of  Baal  had  had  the  freedom  of  the  camp, 
and  been  permitted  to  go  from  tribe  to  tribe,  and  from 
tent  to  tent,  preaching  the  doctrine  of  human  sacrifices  ? 
Hence  Moses  did  not  suffer  them  for  an  hom’.  False 
prophets  were  to  be  stoned  to  death. 

We  need  not  stop  to  defend  the  abstract  justice  of  these 
laws.  It  is  enough  that  every  state  has  a right  to  consult 
for  its  own  safety,  and  to  proscribe  or  banish  any  class  of 
men  that  are  found  to  be  dangerous.  On  this  principle, 
many  European  governments  have  driven  out  the  Jesuits, 
whom  they  found  plotting  against  the  peace  of  their  realms. 
By  the  same  rule  of  acting  for  the  public  safety,  Moses  had 
the  right  to  rid  his  people  of  pestilent  prophets  and  divin- 
ers. No  good  ever  came  of  them.  Often  they  have  led 
princes  to  embark  in  disastrous  wars,  by  promising  victo- 
ries in  the  name  of  their  gods.  In  the  last  century  the 
Turkish  .Sultan,  putting  faith  in  certain  Moslem  prophe- 
cies, plunged  into  a war  with  Bussia,  which  nearly  proved 
the  ruin  of  his  empire.* 

* Michaelis,  Vol.  IV.,  p.  75. 


130 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


Besides,  the  people  whom  Moses  led  were  advancing 
into  great  dangers.  All  round  them  were  pagan  nations. 
Egypt  was  behind  them,  and  Canaan  before  them.  They 
had  just  left  the  most  powerful  kingdom  on  earth,  where 
men  prostrated  themselves  before  beasts.  They  still  had  a 
lingering  fondness  for  that  hideous  worship.  On  one  occa- 
sion, when  Moses  was  absent  from  the  camp  for  forty  days, 
on  his  return  he  found  them  singing  and  shouting  round 
a golden  calf,  an  image  of  the  god  Apis.  Often  they  showed 
a fanatical  frenzy  for  idolatry.  Against  all  this  Moses  stood 
alone,  and  combated  the  popular  fury.  If  he  had  no  Divine 
authority  to  sustain  him,  to  impose  such  laws  on  hostile 
millions  showed  a moral  daring  of  which  there  is  no  exam- 
ple in  history. 

As  the  unity  of  God  was  the  fundamental  law  of  the 
state,  idolatry  of  course  was  the  first  of  crimes.  This, 
therefore,  was  placed  under  the  ban  of  absolute  prohibi- 
tion.* Any  individual  who  sought  to  entice  them  away 
from  their  God,  even  though  the  nearest  kindred,  was  to 
be  stoned.  If  a whole  city  relapsed  into  idolatry,  it  was 
placed  out  of  the  pale  of  protection,  and  was  to  be  utterly 
destroyed.  | 

Not  only  the  false  worship  itself,  but  everything  which 
could  lead  to  it  was  forbidden.  All  the  arts  by  which  it 
was  upheld — divination,  sorcery,  magic,  witchcraft — were 
torn  up  root  and  branch.  J Witches — those  old  sybils  who 
decoyed  men  by  their  juggling  arts — were  not  permitted 
to  live. 

Does  this  appear  the  extreme  of  harshness  and  intoler- 
ance? Perhaps  it  was  rather  a brave  act  of  mercy.  In 
every  pagan  country  there  are  sorcerers  and  necromancers 
who  claim  to  have  power  over  the  elements,  or  over  life 
and  death,  and  who  impose  on  ignorant  savages,  often  to 

* Deut.  xiii.  6-11.  f Deut.  xiii.  12-16.  J Deut.  xviii.  9-12. 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


131 


perpetrate  acts  of  fiendish  cruelty.  Travellers  in  the  inte- 
rior of  Africa  tell  us  that  the  curse  of  the  Dark  Continent, 
greater  perhaps  than  the  slave  trade  itself,  is  witchcraft. 
If  a man  is  taken  ill,  he  is  supposed  to  be  bewitched,  and 
he  cannot  recover  until  the  person  who  has  bewitched  him 
is  found  and  put  to  death.  Here  come  in  a class  of  medi- 
cine-men, or  fetish-men,  who  claim  to  have  the  power  of 
detecting  by  secret  signs  those  who  have  bewitched  the 
sick,  and  this  pretended  power  they  use  to  gratify  their 
own  malignity  or  revenge.  M.  du  Chaillu  once  described 
to  me  the  horrible  scenes  which  he  had  witnessed  in  an 
Airican  village,  particularly  the  fate  of  a beautiful  girl  who 
ran  to  him  shrieking  in  despair,  and  whom  he  tried  to  save, 
but  in  vain. 

These  fetish-men  are  really  professional  murderers,  as 
much  as  the  Thugs  of  India.  If  an  African  king  were 
to  become  so  far  civilized  as  to  get  his  eyes  open  to  the 
horrible  cruelty  of  these  demons  in  human  form,  could 
he  make  a better  use  of  his  knowledge  or  of  his  power 
than  to  seize  them  as  the  most  conspicuous  examples  of 
crime  and  its  punishment  ? Might  he  not  rightfully  do  to 
them  as  they  had  caused  to  be  done  to  so  many  others  ? 
The  public  execution  of  a score  of  those  who  had  been 
most  active  and  most  brutal,  might  break  the  spell  which 
they  had  exercised  over  the  unhappy  children  of  Africa. 

It  is  vain  here  to  make  a comparison  between  the  feeble 
Jewish  Commonwealth  and  the  majestic  Roman  Empire, 
which,  when  it  ruled  the  earth,  tolerated  all  religions,  and 
received  injury  from  none.  That  had  other  elements  of 
unity — power,  conquest,  and  dominion.  It  was  in  no  dan- 
ger of  being  mingled  and  lost  in  other  nations,  since  it 
ruled  over  all. 

Far  different  was  the  state  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
not  yet  formed  into  a nation,  wandering  like  a caravan 


132 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


across  the  desert,  and  ready  to  crumble  into  its  sands. 
They  had  need  to  cast  out  every  element  of  discord,  the 
greatest  of  which  was  diversity  of  religion.  Their  only 
safety  was  in  a perpetual  guard  against  that  demon- wor- 
ship, which  the  more  debasing  it  was,  the  more  it  exer- 
cised over  them  a horrible  fascination. 

Nor  did  these  dangers  fade  away  with  the  memories  of 
Egypt.  As  they  receded  from  Africa,  they  approached  the 
hills  of  Canaan,  which  smoked  with  the  altars  of  idolatry. 
Over  all  that  land  reigned  a disgusting  and  cruel  worship  ; 
not  that  purer  form  of  idolatry,  the  worship  of  the  sun, 
moon,  and  stars,  which  anciently  looked  up  to  the  skies  of 
Arabia  and  Chaldea,  but  a worship  of  wood  and  stone,  by 
rites  earthly,  sensual,  and  devilish.  Some  writers  give  the 
impression  that  the  native  inhabitants  of  Palestine  were  an 
innocent,  pastoral  people — a simple,  primitive  race,  that 
were  hunted  from  their  pasture-grounds  by  the  Hebrew 
invaders.  But  history  speaks  another  language.  It  de- 
scribes their  religion  as  a compound  of  lust  and  cruelty. 
They  offered  human  sacrifices  to  their  hideous  idols,  and 
even  burned  their  sons  and  daughters  in  fire  unto  their 
gods.*  Centuries  later,  the  Carthaginians,  a people  of  the 
same  Phoenician  origin,  were  found  offering  human  victims 
upon  their  altars,  on  the  shores  of  Africa  ; and  the  fact  is 
beyond  question,  that  among  the  Canaanites  such  sacrifices 
prevailed  to  a frightful  extent.  The  Valley  of  Hinnom  re- 
sounded with  their  drums,  and  with  the  shrieks  of  their 
burning  children.  Indeed  they  seemed  to  have  a strange 
thirst  for  blood.  Their  favorite  god,  Moloch,  fitly  repre- 
sented the  cruelty  and  ferocity  of  the  national  character. 
So  enormous  had  their  crimes  become  that  the  land  itself 
was  ready  to  “ vomit  out  its  inhabitants.”  f 

Against  all  participation  in  these  dark  idolatries,  Moses 
* Deut.  xii.  31.  f Lev.  xviii.  25. 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


133 


denounced  the  severest  punishment  ; against  prostration 
before  their  images,  or  offering  sacrifices  on  their  altars  ; 
against  even  attending  their  festivals,*  or  in  any  way  coun- 
tenancing their  superstitions.  Every  monument  of  the  old 
religion  was  to  be  thrown  down  : “ Ye  shall  destroy  their 
altars,  break  their  images,  and  cut  dowTn  their  groves.”  f 

But  this  work  of  destruction  was  only  clearing  the  way 
for  the  great  work  of  construction.  After  all  this  wreck 
and  ruin  of  cruel  rites  and  degrading  superstitions  had 
been  swept  from  the  minds  of  the  Hebrews,  as  they  had 
often  seen  a vast  plain  swept  by  the  winds  of  the  desert, 
Moses  began  to  construct  the  fabric  of  a pure  religion— 
the  worship  of  One  Living  and  True  God  ; and  out  of  this 
central  principle,  as  the  root  of  a mighty  banyan-tree,  there 
sprang  a hundred  trunks  and  arms,  spreading  far  and  wide, 
so  that  a whole  nation  could  dwell  under  its  shade.  “ Thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me.”  That  was  the  first 
principle  imbedded  in  the  Hebrew  Law,  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  which  in  itself  contained  a whole  government,  and 
out  of  the  most  incoherent  elements  formed  a nation  and 
created  a state. 

Such  was  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth — a state  founded 
in  Religion.  Was  it  therefore  founded  in  fanaticism  and 
folly  ? or  in  profound  wisdom  and  far-seeing  sagac- 
ity? Religion  may  seem  an  unsubstantial  foundation  on 
which  to  erect  any  human  structure.  It  is  indeed  in- 
tangible, but  only  as  gravitation  is  intangible,  which  yet 
holds  the  solar  system  in  its  place.  So  is  Religion  the 
most  powerful  influence  which  can  bind  human  societies 
together.  Says  Coleridge  in  his  Manual  for  Statesmen — 
and  the  great  English  thinker  seldom  uttered  a profounder 
truth,  or  one  more  worthy  of  the  consideration  of  states- 
men— “ Religion,  true  or  false,  is,  and  ever  has  been,  the 
* Exodus  xxxiv.  15.  t Exodus  xxxiv.  13 ; Deut.  xii.  2,  3. 


134 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


centre  of  gravity  in  a realm,  to  which  all  other  things 
must  and  will  accommodate  themselves.”  Would  it  not 
he  well  if  some  of  our  modern  pretenders  to  statesman- 
ship did  not  so  completely  ignore  its  existence  and  its 
power  ? 

The  Religion  which  Moses  gave  to  the  Hebrews  was 
not  one  merely  of  abstract  ideas  : it  was  incarnated  in  an 
outward  and  visible  worship,  by  which  it  addressed  the 
senses.  On  the  desert  there  could  not  be  the  imposing 
and  majestic  service  of  the  Temple.  Yet  even  here  was 
the  Tabernacle  set  up  and  the  altar,  and  was  offered  the 
daily  sacrifice  : the  smoke  and  the  incense  below  ascend- 
ing towards  the  pillar  of  cloud  above,  and  the  fire  on  the 
altar  answering  to  the  pillar  of  fire  in  the  midnight  sky. 
This  daily  and  nightly  worship  made  religion  a real,  be- 
cause a visible,  thing  ; it  appealed  to  the  senses  and 
touched  the  imagination  of  the  people,  and  held  their 
spirits  in  awe.  And  how  did  that  feeling  of  a God  dwell- 
ing in  the  midst  of  them,  inspire  them  with  courage  for 
great  efforts  and  great  sacrifices ! Weak  as  they  were, 
they  were  made  strong  because  they  had  a Divine  Helper, 
and  went  forth  to  battle  with  confidence,  as  they  sang  the 
stirring  psalm,  “ Rise  up,  Lord,  and  let  Thine  enemies  be 
scattered ! ” 

H further  proof  were  needed  to  show  the  wisdom  of 
Moses  in  the  constitution  of  the  Hebrew  state,  and  of 
those  laws  which  he  set  round  it  as  its  perpetual  de- 
fence, it  is  furnished  by  its  subsequent  history,  which 
we  have  but  to  follow  to  see  how  necessary,  after  all, 
were  those  restrictions,  and  how  wise  was  the  great 
Lawgiver  in  guarding  his  people  against  idolatry.  The 
influence  of  his  mighty  name  remained  for  a whole  gen- 
eration after  he  was  in  his  sepulchre.  “ The  people  served 
the  Lord  all  the  days  of  Joshua,  and  of  the  elders  that 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


135 


outlived  Joshua,  who  had  seen  all  the  great  works  of  the 
Lord,  that  he  did  for  Israel.”  * Those  were  the  days  of 
peace  and  prosperity,  when  judges  judged  justly,  and 
rulers  ruled  righteously.  But  then  began  a decline.  In 
spite  of  every  precaution,  the  nation  fell  back.  They  re- 
lapsed into  idolatry,  and  even  slaughtered  human  beings 
on  their  altars  : “ They  sacrificed  their  sons  and  then- 
daughters  unto  devils,  and  shed  innocent  blood,  even  the 
blood  of  their  sons  and  of  their  daughters,  whom  they  sac- 
rificed unto  the  idols  of  Canaan,  and  the  land  was  polluted 
with  blood.”  f Then  they  reaped  the  bitter  fruits  of  dis- 
regarded wisdom.  Moses  had  foretold  the  greatest  calam- 
ities from  such  apostacy,  | and  his  predictions  were  literally 
fulfilled.  The  decline  of  the  nation  into  idolatry  intro- 
duced an  element  of  discord  which  tore  them  to  pieces  by 
civil  wars,  and  left  them  a prey  to  their  powerful  neigh- 
bors. Weakened  by  divisions,  they  were  subjected  to  a 
foreign  yoke,  and  at  last  were  transported  to  Babylon  as  a 
nation  of  slaves.  The  same  alternate  rise  and  fall  are  re- 
peated at  many  successive  periods  of  their  history. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth — a 
story  that  has  its  counterpart  in  every  age,  and  under  all 
forms  of  government — always  teaching  the  same  lesson, 
that  the  decay  of  religion  is  the  decadence  of  the  state. 

Is  there  nothing  in  all  this  worthy  the  notice  of  the 
political  economists  of  our  day  ? Are  we  grown  so  wise 
and  great  that  we  can  despise  the  wisdom  of  antiquity  and 
the  experience  of  ages?  History  repeats  itself  nowhere 
more  unerringly  than  in  the  rise  and  fall  of  nations.  Hu- 
man nature  is  the  same  in  all  ages  and  all  countries,  and 
the  same  causes  produce  the  same  effects.  Nations  seem 
to  revolve  in  cycles  as  fixed  as  those  of  the  planets  in  their 

* Judges  ii.  7.  f Psalm  cvi.  37,  38. 
t Lev.  xxvi.  and  Deut.  xxvii.,  xxviii.,  and  xxxii. 


136 


THE  HEBREW  COMMONWEALTH 


orbits,  as  they  rise  to  glory  and  sink  into  decay.  They 
begin  in  a low  estate,  with  industry  and  all  tbe  virtues  that 
are  bom  of  weakness  and  poverty,  till  growing  strength 
turns  their  humility  to  pride,  and  wealth  and  power  induce 
the  luxury  and  its  attendant  vices  which  are  the  sure  pre- 
cursors of  ruin.  These  are  only  different  forms  of  one  dis- 
ease— an  universal  selfishness,  which  eats  out  the  manhood 
of  a people,  as  concealed  rottenness  eats  out  the  heart  of 
the  oak,  and  causes  at  last  even  the  giant  of  the  forest  to 
come  thundering  to  the  ground.  By  these  things  nations 
die.  It  was  this  internal  decay  and  rottenness  which  de- 
stroyed the  Roman  empire,  and  may  destroy  the  most  pow- 
erful of  modern  states. 

To  meet  such  dangers,  how  weak  and  puny  are  the  pre- 
tentious devices  of  political  economists  ! In  these  last 
days,  when  men  boast  as  if  they  had  attained  all  wisdom 
and  all  knowledge,  the  economists  claim  to  have  reduced 
government  to  a science,  which  they  have  mastered  as  com- 
pletely as  the  students  of  natural  science  have  mastered 
chemistry  ; and  yet,  to  judge  from  the  frequent  failures  in 
the  most  civilized  countries,  from  the  rebellions  and  revo- 
lutions, this  science  of  government  is  still  but  imperfectly 
understood.  Does  science  furnish  any  antidote  for  selfish- 
ness ? Does  a knowledge  of  chemistry  change  the  internal 
composition  of  a man’s  nature  ? Alas ! that  we  must  con- 
fess that  these  things  do  not  alter  human  character  ; that 
men  may  be  learned  and  scientific,  and  yet  be  as  supremely 
selfish  as  before.  It  is  a sad  commentary  on  the  moral 
power,  or  rather  the  moral  weakness,  of  science  and  civili- 
zation, that  the  nation  which  claims  to  be  the  most  highly 
civilized,  and  which  is  the  most  devoted  to  science,  is  the 
one  which  has  had  the  most  revolutions,  and  which  has 
more  than  once  been  petrified  and  set  aghast  by  a Reign 
of  Terror. 


FOUNDED  ON  RELIGION. 


137 


Against  all  these  perils,  which  in  our  day  threaten  not 
only  government,  hut  society  itself,  there  is  hut  one  safe- 
guard, Religion  reenforced,  not  hy  civil  enactments,  hut 
by  every  moral  and  educational  influence.  For  a nation, 
as  for  an  individual,  the  only  security  is  inspiration  from 
above.  That  alone  ennobles  human  character  or  human 
life  : 

“ Unless  above  himself  he  can  erect  himself. 

How  mean  a thing  is  man  1 ” 

Unless  he  can  reach  up  to  something  higher  than  himself, 
and  take  hold  of  a power  stronger  than  himself,  he  is  hut 
a helpless  unit  floating  in  the  great  universe,  like  a mote 
in  the  sunbeam.  To  give  any  dignity  to  his  life  on  earth, 
he  must  find  an  attraction  out  of  himself — a central  orb 
around  which  his  little  existence  can  revolve. 

The  same  law  holds  in  things  great  and  small,  with  na- 
tions as  with  individuals.  In  the  moral  and  in  the  mate- 
rial world  there  is  one  Divine  order  : 

“ One  God,  one  law,  one  element, 

And  one  far-off  Divine  intent, 

To  which  the  whole  creation  moves.” 

Religion  is  the  source  of  all  man’s  highest  inspirations — 
of  all  things  great  and  noble  ; of  all  things  pure  and  good  ; 
of  all  things  sweet  and  gracious  in  human  intercourse  ; 
of  endless  kindnesses  and  charities.  It  makes  men  honest 
and  brave  ; it  habituates  them  to  self-control,  and  to  obe- 
dience to  law,  and  thus  makes  good  citizens  ; while  it  in- 
spires the  higher  virtues  of  self-sacrifice  and  devotion. 

Are  not  these  great  elements  on  which  to  lay  the  founda- 
tions of  a state  ? Such  was  the  political  economy  of  Moses 
when  he  founded  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth  on  Religion. 
Was  it  wisdom  or  folly?  Was  it  barbarism  or  civilization? 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 

Perhaps  it  does  not  often  occur  to  readers  of  the  Old 
Testament,  that  there  is  much  likeness  between  the  He- 
brew Commonwealth  and  the  American  Republic.  There 
are  more  differences  than  resemblances  : at  least  the  dif- 
ferences are  more  marked.  Governments  change  with 
time  and  place,  with  the  age  and  the  country,  with  man- 
ners and  customs,  with  modes  of  life  and  degrees  of  civil- 
ization. Yet  at  the  bottom  there  is  one  radical  principle 
that  divides  a republic  from  a monarchy  or  an  aristocracy  : 
it  is  the  natural  equality  of  men — that  “ all  men  are  bom 
free  and  equal  — which  is  as  fully  recognized  in  the  laws  of 
Moses  as  in  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  Indeed  the 
principle  is  carried  further  in.  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth 
than  in  ours  : for  not  only  was  there  equality  before  the 
laws,  but  the  laws  aimed  to  produce  equality  of  condition 
in  one  point,  and  that  a vital  one — the  tenure  of  land— 
of  which  even  the  poorest  could  not  be  deprived,  so  that  in 
this  respect  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth  approached  more 
nearly  to  a pure  democracy. 

Of  course  the  political  rights  of  the  people  did  not  ex- 
tend to  the  choice  of  a ruler,  nor  did  it  to  the  making  of 
the  laws.  As  there  was  no  King  but  God,  it  was  the  theory 
of  the  state  that  the  laws  emanated  directly  from  the  Al- 
mighty, and  His  commands  could  not  be  submitted  to  a 
vote.  No  clamorous  populace  debated  with  the  Deity. 
The  Israelites  had  only  to  hear  and  to  obey.  In  this 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


139 


sense  the  government  was  not  a popular,  but  an  abso- 
lute one. 

But  how  could  absolutism  be  consistent  with  equality  ? 
There  is  no  contradiction  between  the  two,  and  indeed, 
in  some  respects,  no  form  of  government  is  so  favor- 
able to  equality  as  a theocracy.  Encroachments  upon 
popular  liberty,  and  the  oppression  of  the  people,  do  not 
come  from  the  head  of  the  state  so  often  as  from  an  aristo- 
cratic class,  which  is  arrogant  and  tyrannical.  But  in 
a theocracy  the  very  exaltation  of  the  sovereign  places  all 
subjects  on  the  same  level.  God  alone  is  great,  and  in 
His  presence  there  is  no  place  for  human  pride.  Divine 
majesty  overawes  human  littleness,  and  instead  of  a fa- 
vored few  being  lifted  up  above  their  fellows,  there  is  a 
general  feeling  of  lowliness  and  humility  in  the  sight  of 
God,  in  which  lies  the  very  spirit  and  essence  of  equality. 

As  the  Hebrew  Law  recognized  no  natural  distinctions 
among  the  people,  neither  did  it  create  any  artificial  dis- 
tinctions. There  was  no  hereditary  class  which  had  spe- 
cial rights  ; there  was  no  nobility  exempted  from  bur- 
dens laid  on  the  poor,  and  from  punishments  inflicted 
on  the  peasantry.  Whatever  political  power  was  permit- 
ted to  the  Hebrews,  belonged  to  the  people  as  a whole. 
No  man  was  raised  above  another  ; and  if  in  the  making 
of  the  laws  the  people  had  no  voice,  yet  in  the  administra- 
tion of  them  they  had  full  power,  for  they  elected  their 
own  rulers.  Moses  found  soon  after  he  left  Egypt  that  he 
could  not  administer  justice  in  person  to  a whole  nation. 
“ How  can  I myself  alone,”  he  asked,  “ bear  your  burden, 
and  your  cumbrance,  and  your  strife  ? ” He  therefore 
directed  the  tribes  to  choose  out  of  their  number  their 
■wisest  men,  whom  he  would  make  judges  to  decide  every 
common  cause,  reserving  to  himself  only  the  more  impor- 
tant questions.  Here  was  a system  of  popular  elections, 


140 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


which  is  one  of  the  first  elements  of  a republican  or  dem- 
ocratic state. 

There  was  a close  connection  between  the  civil  and  the 
military  constitution  of  the  Hebrews.  The  same  men  who 
were  captains  of  thousands  and  captains  of  hundreds  in 
war,  were  magistrates  in  time  of  peace. 

In  every  Oriental  State  the  point  of  greatest  weak- 
ness is  the  administration  of  justice.  Those  who  have 
lived  long  in  the  East  testify  that  there  is  no  such  tiling  as 
justice  ; that  no  cadi,  sitting  in  the  place  of  judgment,  ever 
pretends  to  such  exceptional  virtue  as  to  be  above  receiv- 
ing bribes.  The  utmost  that  can  be  expected  is  the  hypoc- 
risy which  is  the  homage  of  vice  to  virtue,  and  even  this  is 
seldom  rendered,  for  where  bribery  is  universal,  no  one  is 
constrained  by  shame  to  conceal  it. 

Against  this  terrible  demoralization  no  rock  can  stand 
but  that  of  the  Divine  authority.  In  the  administration  of 
justice  a theocracy  is  an  ideal  government,  for  it  is  Divin- 
ity enthroned  on  earth  as  in  heaven  ; and  no  other  form  of 
government  enforces  justice  in  a manner  so  absolute  and 
peremptory.  In  the  eyes  of  the  Hebrew  Lawgiver,  the 
civil  tribunal  was  as  sacred  as  the  Holy  of  Holies.  The 
office  of  the  judge  was  as  truly  authorized,  and  his  duty  as 
solemnly  enjoined,  as  that  of  the  priest.  “ The  judgment 
is  God’s,”  said  Moses,  and  he  who  gave  a false  judgment 
disregarded  the  authority  of  Him  whose  nature  is  justice 
and  truth.  The  judgment-seat  was  a holy  place,  which  no 
private  malice  might  profane.  Evidence  was  received  with 
religious  care.  Oaths  were  administered  to  give  solemnity 
to  the  testimony.*  Then  the  judge,  standing  in  the  place 
of  God,  was  to  pronounce  equitably,  whatever  might  be  the 
rank  of  the  contending  parties  : “ Ye  shall  not  respect  per- 
sons in  judgment,  but  ye  shall  hear  the  small  as  well  as  the 
*Lev.  v.  1. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


141 


great  ; ye  shall  not  be  afraid  of  the  face  of  man,  for  the 
judgment  is  God’s.”  * He  recognized  no  distinctions  ; all 
were  alike  to  Him.  The  judge  was  to  know  no  differ- 
ence. He  was  not  to  be  biased  even  by  sympathy  for  the 
poor  : “ Neither  shalt  thou  countenance  a poor  man  in  his 
cause.”  f “ Thou  shalt  not  respect  the  person  of  the  poor, 
nor  honor  the  person  of  the  mighty  ; but  in  righteousness 
shalt  thou  judge  thy  neighbor.”  J Magistrates  were  not 
allowed  to  accept  a gift,  for  fear  of  bribery  : “ Thou  shalt 
take  no  gift  : for  the  gift  blindeth  the  wise,  and  perverteth 
the  words  of  the  righteous.”  § 

To  make  the  administration  of  justice  august  and 
venerable,  the  higher  magistracy  -was  committed  to  old 
men,  whose  white  hairs  and  silver  beards  gave  dignity  to 
the  judicial  tribunal.  They  were  called  the  elders  of  the 
congregation.  After  the  Israelites  reached  Canaan,  and 
were  settled  in  towns  and  cities,  this  council  of  the  ancients 
always  sat  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  which  was  the  place  of 
public  resort.  Here  they  received  the  homage  of  the  peo- 
ple as  they  went  forth  to  work  in  the  fields,  or  returned  at 
evening  to  lodge  within  the  walls.  When  they  appeared 
abroad,  they  rode  on  white  asses,  as  the  mollahs,  or  men 
of  the  law,  in  Persia,  do  to  this  day,  and  the  heads  of 
families  returning  from  a pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  The  au- 
thority of  these  magistrates  was  sacred.  No  one  might 
rebel  against  them  decisions,  nor  even  speak  of  them  with 
disrespect  : “ Thou  shalt  not  curse  the  ruler  of  thy 
people.” 

In  vindicating  the  wisdom  of  such  a “ Department  of 
Justice,”  it  is  not  necessary  to  limit  our  comparison  to  Ori- 
ental states  ; we  may  extend  it  to  all  states,  ancient  and 
modern,  the  most  powerful  and  the  most  civilized.  Where 
can  we  find  a machinery  of  law  that  is  more  perfect  ? The 

*Deut.  i.  17.  fEx.  xxiii.  3.  :{Lev.  xix.  15.,  § Ex.  xxiii.  8. 


142 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


organization  was  very  simple  ; it  was  patriarchal  in  form. 
And  yet  with  laws  that  were  plain  and  intelligible,  admin- 
istered by  men  whose  age  and  character  commanded  uni- 
versal reverence,  what  could  be  more  admirably  framed  to 
secure  that  which  is  declared  to  be  one  of  the  great  ends 
of  our  republican  government,  “ to  establish  justice,”  than 
this  simple  economy  of  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth  ? 

But  now  we  come  to  a point  in  which  it  not  only 
equalled,  but  far  surpassed,  our  American  Republic  in  se- 
curing absolute  equality.  In  the  Hebrew  state  not  only 
did  all  classes  enjoy  the  same  liberty,  and  have  the  same 
rights — not  only  were  all  equal  before  the  law,  having  the 
same  claim  to  justice  and  protection — -but  the  Hebrew  pol- 
ity aimed  to  secure  among  the  people  a general  equality 
of  property  and  of  condition. 

On  the  conquest  of  Canaan,  it  was  divided  into  twelve 
parts,  which  were  assigned  by  lot  to  the  different  tribes. 
Thus  the  Hebrew  state  was  a confederacy  of  twelve  small 
provinces,  like  the  Swiss  cantons.  The  territory  of  each 
was  then  subdivided,  so  that  a portion  of  land  was  assigned 
to  every  family.  This  was  a military  division  of  the  coun- 
try. A share  in  the  soil  might  be  considered  as  a reward 
of  every  soldier  who  had  fought  for  the  Promised  Land. 
But  in  the  eye  of  the  great  Lawgiver,  it  was  designed  to 
have  the  most  important  political  effects. 

First  of  all,  it  settled  the  country.  It  gave  to  every 
man  a fixed  and  permanent  home.  For  forty  years  the 
Israelites  had  lived  in  a camp.  They  had  contracted  the 
roving  habits  of  all  wandering  tribes.  Now  an  army  was 
to  be  transformed  into  a nation.  The  cottage  was  to  take 
the  place  of  the  tent,  and  the  pruning-hook  of  the  spear. 
All  this  Moses  secured  by  one  simple  law.  Instead  of  in- 
troducing a feudal  system,  dividing  the  conquered  country 
to  military  chiefs,  for  whom  the  people  should  labor  as 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


143 


serfs,  lie  gave  the  land  to  all.  Each  tribe  was  marched  to 
its  new  possession,  every  family  entered  on  its  humble  es- 
tate, and  Israel  began  its  national  existence.  This  deter- 
mined the  occupations  of  the  people.  By  planting  every 
father  of  a family  upon  a plot  of  ground  which  he  was  to 
cultivate,  Moses  formed  a nation  of  farmers — the  best  citi- 
zens for  a free  Commonwealth.  The  miracle  was  as  great 
as  if  immense  hordes  of  wandering  Bedaween  were  in- 
stantly transformed  into  quiet  husbandmen. 

In  modern  political  economy  it  is  considered  necessary 
to  the  prosperity  of  a nation  that  it  should  have  a varied 
industry,  employing  a part  of  its  people  in  manufactures 
and  in  commerce.  But  Moses  founded  a state  almost 
wholly  upon  agriculture.  Manufactures  he  did  not  en- 
courage. Doubtless  the  Israelites,  while  in  Egypt,  had 
acquired  skill  in  mechanic  arts,  as  they  showed  in  working 
gold  and  tapestry  for  the  Tabernacle.  But  the  Hebrew 
Lawgiver  took  no  pains  to  cherish  this  branch  of  indus- 
try, and  it  is  probable  that  the  aids  afterwards  sunk  into 
the  hands  of  slaves. 

Nor  did  he  introduce  commerce.  There  was  an  inland 
trade  which  sufficed  for  the  simple  wants  of  the  people. 
Their  festivals,  besides  their  religious  design,  probably 
served  as  annual  fairs.  The  caravans,  which  passed  from 
Asia  to  Africa,  carried  down  their  products  to  Egypt. 
But  of  navigation  they  knew  nothing.  Though  Palestine 
lay  at  the  head  of  the  Mediterranean,  in  the  best  maritime 
position  in  the  world,  scarcely  a bark  ventured  from  the 
coast  before  the  time  of  Solomon.  Zebulon  and  Naphtali 
dwelt  by  the  sea  ; yet  nothing  is  said  of  the  excellence 
of  their  ports  and  harbors.  The  attraction  of  Palestine 
was  its  fitness  for  agriculture  : “ The  Lord  thy  God  bring- 
eth  thee  into  a good  land,  a land  of  brooks  of  water,  of 
fountains  and  depths  that  spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills  ; 


144 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


a land  of  wheat,  and  barley,  and  vines,  and  figtrees,  and 
pomegranates  ; a land  of  oil-olive  and  honey.”  * 

This  aversion  to  commerce  Moses  may  have  derived 
from  the  Egyptians,  who  had  a horror  of  the  sea.  But 
he  had  other  reasons  for  it,  and  his  policy  in  this  re- 
spect is  another  proof  of  his  profound  political  sagacity. 
Commerce  promotes  intercourse  with  foreign  nations, 
which  for  the  best  reasons  he  wished  to  discourage.  By 
dispersing  abroad  the  citizens  of  a State,  it  weakens  the 
tie  which  binds  them  to  their  country.  A nation  that  does 
not  live  at  home,  quickly  loses  its  nationality.  Of  this  the 
Jews  at  this  day  are  the  best  possible  proof.  Scattered 
in  all  countries,  they  are  equally  ready  to  lend  their 
money  to  Christian  or  Turk,  and  to  fight  for  or  against 
any  people  or  cause.  Agriculture,  on  the  other  hand, 
keeping  all  the  inhabitants  at  home,  promotes  patriotism 
and  attachment  to  the  national  religion.  Farmers  are 
the  strength  of  a state,  for  they  are  generally  both  peace- 
ful citizens  and  brave  warriors.  A small  state  is  never  so 
invincible  as  when  all  its  citizens  are  independent  free- 
holders. Then  every  man  has  an  interest  rooted  in  the 
soil.  He  fights  for  his  country  because  he  fights  for  his 
home. 

Commerce,  too,  would  introduce  foreign  luxury,  which 
would  corrupt  the  simplicity  of  a democratic  state.  True, 
it  might  make  the  Hebrews  rich.  But  it  was  not  the 
object  of  Moses  to  make  his  people  opulent,  but  free,  con- 
tented, and  happy.  He  aimed  not  to  erect  a splendid 
monarchy,  like  that  of  Egypt  or  Assyria,  but  to  found 
a simple  and  religious  Commonwealth.  By  confining  the 
Hebrews  to  rural  occupations,  he  preserved  a Spartan  fru- 
gality and  economy,  the  most  proper  to  a free  state.  He 
preserved  a general  equality  among  the  people.  Even  to 
* Deut.  viii.  7 8. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


145 


the  humblest  was  secured  his  little  home-lot,  so  that,  how- 
ever poor,  he  would  still  feel  that  he  was  on  the  same  plane 
with  his  neighbors,  working  in  the  same  fields,  performing 
the  same  labor,  and  entitled  to  the  same  respect. 

But  this  simplicity  and  equality  could  not  long  have 
remained,  since  large  estates  would  begin  to  swallow  up 
the  smaller-,  but  for  another  law,  that  the  land  was  inalien- 
able. In  Egypt  the  soil  belonged  to  the  king,  of  whom  the 
people  received  it  as  tenants.  So  the  Divine  Euler  re- 
served to  himself  the  title  to  the  new  country  which 
the  Israelites  were  to  enter  : “ The  land  shall  not  be 
sold  forever  ; for  the  land  is  mine,  for  ye  are  strangers 
and  sojourners  with  me.”*  A man  could  sell  the  produce 
of  his  farm,  or  make  over  the  income  of  an  estate  for  a 
term  of  years  ; but  the  land  itself  was  the  gift  of  God  to  his 
family,  and  remained  in  it  from  generation  to  generation. 

Political  writers  may  object  to  this  as  an  agrarian  law. 
But  its  effect  was  most  happy.  It  prevented  the  accumu- 
lation of  great  estates.  It  checked  the  ambition  of  the 
chiefs.  It  formed  a barrier  to  the  influx  of  foreign  luxury, 
and  to  those  civil  discords  which  always  spring  from  great 
inequalities  of  social  condition.  The  disregard  of  this  law 
at  a later  period  was  one  of  the  causes  which  hastened  the 
ruin  of  the  state.  “Woe  unto  them,”  said  the  prophet, 
“ that  lay  field  to  field  till  there  be  no  place,  that  they  may 
be  left  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  earth ! ” 

But  at  the  beginning  the  Hebrew  state  presented  the 
remarkable  spectacle  of  two  millions  and  a half  of  people, 
all  equal  in  rank,  and  very  nearly  so  in  condition.  This 
fact  is  the  more  surprising  when  contrasted  with  the 
monstrous  inequalities  which  prevailed  in  other  Oriental 
countries.  Indeed,  a parallel  to  this  it  would  not  be  pos- 
sible to  find  in  the  most  democratic  modern  state. 


* Lev.  xxv.  23. 


146 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


By  this  equal  distribution  of  the  landed  property  of 
the  nation,  the  law  furnished  the  strongest  barrier  against 
pauperism.  Still,  in  the  best  regulated  society,  inequality 
of  conditions  must  arise.  Special  enactments,  therefore, 
were  added  to  protect  the  poor  from  oppression,  and  to 
soften  the  hardships  of  their  lot.  The  laborer,  who  de- 
pended on  his  daily  wages,  was  to  be  paid  promptly  : 
“ The  wages  of  him  that  is  hired  shall  not  abide  with  thee 
all  night  until  the  morning.”  * Certain  property  was  sa- 
cred : “ No  man  shall  take  the  nether  or  the  upper  mill- 
stone to  pledge  ; for  he  taketh  a man’s  life.”  f 

If,  by  a series  of  calamities,  a man  had  become  impov- 
erished, his  more  prosperous  neighbors  were  enjoined  to 
lend  him  money  ; and  although  this  was  not  a statute,  to 
the  violation  of  which  was  annexed  a legal  penalty,  it  was 
a rule  which  could  not  be  disregarded  without  a degree  of 
infamy,  such  as  would  attach  to  an  Arab  chief,  who  should 
violate  the  laws  of  hospitality.  Thus  did  the  Hebrew  law 
enjoin  a mutual  helpfulness  that  is  the  best  guard  against 
inequalities  of  condition. 

The  humanity  of  the  Hebrew  code  is  further  seen  in 
its  mitigation  of  slavery.  This  was  a legal  institution  of 
Egypt,  out  of  which  they  had  just  come.  They  themselves 
had  been  slaves.  Their  ancestors,  the  patriarchs,  had  held 
slaves.  Abraham  had  over  three  hundred  servants  born 
in  his  house.  J The  relation  of  master  and  slave  they 
still  recognized.  But  by  how  many  limitations  was  this 
state  of  bondage  alleviated  ! No  man  could  be  subjected 
to  slavery  by  violence.  Man-stealing  was  punished  with 
death.  § The  more  common  causes  of  servitude  were  theft 
or  debt.  A robber  might  be  sold  to  expiate  his  eiime  ; 
or  a man  overwhelmed  with  debt,  might  sell  himself  to 

* Lev.  xix.  13 ; Deut.  xxiv.  15.  f Deut.  xxiv.  6, 10-12. 

JGen.  xiv.  11.  § Ex.  xxi.  16;  Deut.  xxiv.  7. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


147 


pay  it ; that  is,  lie  might  hind  himself  to  service  for  a term 
of  years.  Still,  he  could  hold  property,  and  the  moment 
he  acquired  the  means,  might  purchase  hack  his  freedom, 
or  he  might  be  redeemed  by  Lis  nearest  kinsman.*  If 
his  master  treated  him  with  cruelty  ; if  he  beat  him  so  as 
to  cause  injury,  the  servant  recovered  his  freedom  as 
indemnity.f  At  the  longest,  his  servitude  came  to  an  end 
in  six  years.  He  then  recovered  his  freedom  as  a natural 
right : “ If  thou  buy  an  Hebrew  servant,  six  years  he  shall 
serve  ; and  in  the  seventh  he  shall  go  out  free  for  noth- 
ing.” | A Hebrew  slave  was,  therefore,  merely  a laborer 
hired  for  six  years.  Nor  did  the  law  permit  the  faithful 
servant  to  go  forth  in  naked  poverty,  and  with  the  abject 
feeling  of  a slave  still  clinging  to  him.  He  was  to  be 
loaded  with  presents  by  his  late  master— sheep,  oil,  fruits, 
and  wine — to  enable  him  to  begin  housekeeping.  § Thus 
for  a Hebrew  there  was  no  such  thing  as  hopeless 
bondage.  The  people  were  not  to  feel  the  degradation 
of  being  slaves.  God  claimed  them  as  His  own,  and  as 
such  they  were  not  to  be  made  bondmen.  ||  Every  fiftieth 
year  was  a jubilee,  a year  of  universal  emancipation. 
Then  “ liberty  was  proclaimed  throughout  all  the  land  to 
all  the  inhabitants  thereof.”  This  was  the  time  of  the 
restitution  of  all  things.  Though  a man  had  sold  himself 
as  a slave,  his  right  in  the  land  was  not  alienated.  It 
now  returned  to  him  free  of  encumbrance.  At  the  year  of 
jubilee  all  debts  were  extinguished.  His  native  plot  of 
ground,  on  which  he  played  in  childhood,  was  restored  to 
him  in  his  old  age.  Again  he  cultivated  the  paternal  acres. 
He  was  not  only  a free  man,  but  a holder  of  property. 

It  is  true  these  rights  were  limited  to  slaves  of  Hebrew 
descent.  The  Canaanites  were  considered  as  captives  in 

* Lev.  XXV.  49.  f Ex.  xxi.  26,  27.  £Ex.  xxi.  2. 

§ Deut.  xv.  13-15.  ||  Lev.  xxv.  42.  IT  Lev.  xxv.  10. 


148 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


war,  whose  lives  had  been  spared  by  the  conquerors. 
The  Gibeonites  employed  artifice  to  obtain  this  hard  con- 
dition, that  they  might  remain  in  the  land  as  a servile  race. 
A stranger,  therefore,  might  be  a servant  forever.  But 
even  these  foreign  Helots  had  many  rights.  They,  as  well 
as  the  Hebrews,  enjoyed  the  rest  of  the  Sabbath.*  They 
shared  the  general  rejoicing  on  the  great  festivals.  To 
certain  feasts  they  were  especially  to  be  invited. f Thus 
the  hearts  of  the  bondmen  were  lightened  in  the  midst  of 
their  toil.  They  were  always  to  be  treated  with  humanity 
and  kindness.  In  fact,  they  lived  in  the  houses  of  their 
masters  more  as  hired  servants  than  as  slaves.  They  were 
the  family  domestics,  and  were  often  the  objects  of  extreme 
attachment  and  confidence.  Says  Michaelis  : “ The  condi- 
tion of  slaves  among  the  Hebrews  was  not  merely  tolerable, 
but  often  extremely  comfortable.” 

That  the  sympathies  of  the  law  were  with  the  oppressed 
against  the  oppressor,  appears  from  the  singular  injunction 
that  a foreign  slave,  who  fled  to  a Hebrew  for  protection, 
should  not  be  given  up  : “ Thou  shalt  not  deliver  unto  his 
master  the  servant  which  is  escaped  from  his  master  unto 
thee.”  J No  Fugitive  Slave  Law  remanded  the  terror- 
stricken  fugitive  to  an  angry  and  infuriated  master,  and 
to  a condition  more  hopeless  than  before. 

Contrast  this  mild  servitude  with  the  iron  bondage 
which  crushed  the  servile  class  in  other  ancient  nations  : 
“Among  the  Romans  slaves  were  held — pro  nullis — pro 
mortuis — pro  quadrupedibus — as  no  men — as  dead  men — as 
beasts  ; nay,  were  in  a much  worse  state  than  any  cattle 
whatever.  They  had  no  head  in  the  state,  no  name , no  < 
tribe  or  register.  They  were  not  capable  of  being  injured, 
nor  could  they  take  by  purchase  or  descent  ; they  had  no 
heirs,  and  could  make  no  will.  Exclusive  of  what  was 
* Ex.  xx.  10.  t Deut.  xii.  18,  and  xvi.  11.  J Deut.  xxiii.  15. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


149 


called  tlieir  peculium,  whatever  they  acquired  was  their 
master’s  ; they  could  neither  plead,  nor  be  pleaded,  hut 
were  entirely  excluded  from  all  civil  concerns  ; were  not 
entitled  to  the  rights  of  matrimony,  and  therefore  had  no 
l’elief  in  case  of  adultery  ; nor  were  they  proper  subjects 
of  cognation  or  affinity.  They  might  be  sold,  transferred, 
or  pawned,  like  other  goods  or  personal  estate  ; for  goods 
they  were,  and  as  such  they  were  esteemed.”  * 

Can  there  be  a greater  contrast  between  the  laws  of 
different  states  than  that  between  the  Roman  law  and  the 
Hebrew  law  in  regard  to  slaves  ? And  yet  Rome  was  the 
most  powerful  empire  on  the  earth,  and  claimed  to  be 
highly  civilized.  But  which  code  leans  more  to  barbar- 
ism ? Which  is  instinct  with  the  spirit  of  a new  and  bet- 
ter civilization  ? Moses  was  the  first  to  recognize  slaves  as 
human  beings.  No  matter  how  low  the  slave  might  be  in 
the  Scale  of  rank — how  abject  his  condition — he  was  a man. 
We  boast  of  this  doctrine  of  equality  as  if  it  were  a mod- 
ern discovery,  and  popular  assemblies  applaud,  or  sing  in 
chorus,  the  noble  line  of  Burns, 

“A  man’s  a man  for  a’  that,” 

forgetting  that  the  fine  sentiment  of  the  poet  was  a rec- 
ognized truth  and  a principle  of  law  more  than  thirty 
centuries  before  he  was  born.  Indeed  no  other  state, 
ancient  or  modern,  not  Scotland  or  Switzerland,  answered 
more  fully  to  the  poet’s  dream  of  simplicity  and  equality 
than  that  which  was  planted  on  the  Judean  hills.  A state 
which  respected  manhood  and  womanhood,  and  in  which 
labor  was  honorable,  and  agricultural  labor  above  all  the 
most  honored  of  human  pursuits,  was  the  very  one  in 
which  the  free-hearted  Scot  might  have 
“ Walked  in  glory  and  in  joy 
Behind  his  plough  along  the  mountain  side.” 

* Horne’s  Introduction.  American  edition.  Yol.  II.,  p.  166.  Note. 


150 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


Such  was  the  democracy  of  theocracy — a democracy 
not  merely  joined  with  theocracy  in  a forced  and  unnatu- 
ral union — an  alliance  of  two  systems  which  were  by  na- 
ture hostile,  and  ready  to  fly  apart ; but  a union  in  which 
one  sprang  out  of  the  other.  Men  were  equal  because  God  ► 
was  their  Ruler — a Ruler  so  high  that  before  Him  there 
was  neither  great  nor  small,  but  all  stood  on  the  same  level. 

But  the  Hebrew  Law  did  not  stop  with  equality  : it 
inculcated  fraternity.  A man  was  not  only  a man,  he  was 
a brother.  That  Law  contains  some  of  the  most  beautiful 
provisions  ever  recorded  in  any  legislation,  not  only  for  the 
cold  administration  of  justice,  but  for  the  exercise  of  hu- 
manity. The  spirit  of  the  Hebrew  Law  was  broader  than 
race,  or  country,  or  kindred.  What  liberality,  for  example, 
in  its  treatment  of  foreigners ! In  the  Exodus  of  the  Israel- 
ites ; in  their  migration  from  the  Delta  to  the  Desert ; in 
their  long  wanderings  through  the  wilderness  ; and  in  their 
approaches  to  the  Holy  Land — they  came  in  contact  with 
other  tribes  and  nations.  With  these  they  were  often  at  war ; 
but  after  the  war  there  were  great  numbers  of  persons  of 
foreign  birth  settled  among  them,  and  unless  guarded  by 
special  enactments,  they  were  liable  to  be  objects  of  ha- 
tred and  persecution.  Among  the  ancients  generally  a for- 
eigner had  no  rights  in  any  country  but  his  own.  In  some 
languages  the  very  word  “ stranger  ” was  synonymous  with 
enemy.  Against  all  these  race  hatreds  Moses  set  up  this 
command,  “Thou  shalt  not  oppress  a stranger” — which  he 
enforced  upon  the  Israelites  by  the  touching  remembrance 
iof  their  own  bitter  experience — “for  ye  know  the  heart  of 
a stranger,  seeing  ye  were  strangers  in  the  land  of  Egypt.”* 
Perhaps  indeed  he  thought  of  himself — how  he  had  once 
fled  to  this  land  of  Midian,  and  been  a wanderer  among 
these  mountains  ; and  remembering  his  own  days  of  lone- 
* Ex.  xxiii.  9. 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


151 


liness  and  exile,  he  bade  them  regard  with  pitying  tender- 
ness those  who  were  strangers,  as  he  had  been. 

But  not  only  were  foreigners  to  be  tolerated ; they 
were  to  receive  the  fullest  protection  : “ Ye  shall  have 
one  manner  of  law  as  well  for  the  stranger  as  for  one  of 
your  own  country.”  * If  they  chose  to  be  naturalized, 
they  became  entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  Hebrews. 

Still  further,  all  were  required  to  render  acts  of  neigh- 
borly kindness,  which  would  be  considered  too  minute  to 
be  specified  in  modern  law.  Whoever  saw  an  ox  going 
astray,  was  required  to  return  it  to  the  owner.  The  chief 
property  of  the  husbandman,  next  to  his  land,  was  his 
cattle.  And  thus  the  Law  saved  to  him  his  most  valuable 
possession. 

In  several  requirements,  we  discern  a pity  for  the  brute 
creation.  Long  before  modern  refinement  of  feeling  or- 
ganized societies  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals, 
Moses  recognized  dumb  beasts  as  having  a claim  to  be  de- 
fended from  injury.  If  one  saw  the  ass  even  of  an  enemy 
lying  under  its  burden,  he  was  to  lift  it  up.f  Birds’  nests 
were  protected  from  wanton  destruction.!  Even  the  sem- 
blance of  an  unnatural  act  was  forbidden  : “ Thou  shalt 
not  seethe  a kid  in  his  mother’s  milk.”  § This  may  appear 
an  over-refinement  of  legislation  ; but  it  shows  the  deli- 
cacy of  feeling  of  the  Lawgiver — that  he  shrank  even  from 
the  appearance  of  barbarity.  Thus  he  strove  to  extinguish 
the  spirit  of  cruelty.  If  these  enactments  seem  trifling, 
they  at  least  indicate  the  strong  instinct  of  humanity  which 
framed  these  ancient  statutes. 

But  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  provision  of  the  Law 
was  for  the  poor.  When  the  land  was  rejoicing  at  the  time 
of  the  vintage,  they  were  not  forgotten  : “ When  ye  reap 
the  harvest  of  your  land,  thou  shalt  not  wholly  reap  the 

* Lev.  xxiv.  22.  f Ex.  xxiii.  4,  5.  J Deut.  xxii.  6.  § Ex.  xxiii.  19. 


152 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


comers  of  thy  field,  neither  shalt  thou  gather  the  glean- 
ings of  thy  harvests.  And  thou  shalt  not  glean  thy  vine- 
yard, neither  shalt  thou  gather  every  grape  of  thy  vine- 
yard ; thou  shalt  leave  them  for  the  poor  and  the  stran- 
ger.” * If  the  reaper  dropped  a sheaf  in  the  field,  he 
might  not  return  to  take  it.  "Whatever  olives  hung  on  the 
bough,  or  clusters  on  the  vine,  after  the  first  gathering, 
were  the  property  of  “ the  stranger,  the  fatherless,  and  the 
widow.”  f Under  the  shelter  of  this  law  came  many  a 
Ruth,  gleaning  the  handfuls  of  golden  corn  to  carry  home 
to  her  mother,  who  was  thus  saved  from  utter  destitution. 
By  these  means  the  Law  kept  the  poor  from  sinking  to  the 
extreme  point  of  misery.  It  prevented  that  hopeless  pov- 
erty which  forces  the  Irish  peasant  to  emigrate.  It  kept 
them  in  the  country.  At  the  same  time,  by  throwing  in 
their  path  these  wayside  gifts,  it  saved  them  from  theft  or 
vagabondage.  As  a proof  of  its  successful  operation,  it  is 
a curious  fact  that,  in  the  five  books  of  Moses,  such  a 
class  as  beggars  is  not  once  mentioned ! The  tradition  of 
caring  for  those  of  their  own  kindred,  remains  to  this  day  ; 
and  it  is  an  honorable  boast  that  among  the  swarms  of 
beggars  that  throng  the  streets  of  the  Old  World  or  the 
New,  one  almost  never  finds  a Jew  ! 

In  these  humane  provisions  may  be  traced  the  germ  of 
those  asylums  and  hospitals  for  the  relief  of  human  mis- 
ery which  now  cover  the  civilized  world. 

The  Law  also  took  under  its  care  all  whom  death  had 
deprived  of  their  natural  protectors  : “ Ye  shall  not  afflict 
any  widow  or  fatherless  child.”  They  were  sacred  by  mis- 
fortune. God  would  punish  cruelty  to  them  : “ If  thou 
afflict  them  in  any  wise,  and  they  cry  unto  me,  I will  surely 
hear  their  cry  ; and  your  wives  shall  he  widows,  and  your  chil- 
dren fatherless.”  | 

* Lev.  xix.  9,  10. 


t Deut.  xxiv.  19-21. 


1 Ex.  xxii.  22-24, 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


153 


Tliis  last  provision  strikes  me  tlie  more  from  its  con- 
trast with  what  I have  observed  in  another  country  of 
Asia,  which  boasts  of  a religion  derived  from  the  remotest 
antiquity,  and  inspired  with  a Divine  W'isdom.  Only  six 
years  since  I was  in  India,  where,  among  other  things  that 
opened  my  eyes,  I learned  that  the  condition  of  widows  had 
been  made  hardly  more  tolerable  by  the  abolition  of  the 
suttee  ; that  when  a husband  died,  his  widow  was  looked 
upon  as  one  accursed,  whose  only  act  of  dignity  was  to 
throw  herself  upon  his  funeral  pile,  and  let  her  ashes 
mingle  with  his.  If  she  dared  to  live,  she  was  subjected 
to  sufferings  and  humiliations,  even  from  her  own  nearest 
kindred,  from  which  death  itself  were  a relief.  From  that 
inhumanity  of  the  Hindoo,  which  extinguishes  even  the 
promptings  of  nature,  I turn  to  the  Hebrew  lawgiver,  and 
find  him  looking  after  the  poorest  and  the  weakest,  the 
loneliest  and  the  most  suffering,  of  the  daughters  of 
Israel,  that  he  may  protect  those  who  had  lost  their  nat- 
ural protectors  ; and  that,  speaking  in  the  name  of  the 
Highest,  he  warned  any  who  would  do  them  -wrong,  that 
their  wives  should  be  doomed  to  widowhood  and  their 
children  to  orphanage ! Thus  the  Hebrew  Law  took  the 
poor  and  the  weak  under  its  special  protection.  If  a man 
had  any  physical  infirmity  ; if  he  were  blind  or  deaf,  that, 
instead  of  exposing  him  to  be  mocked  at,  furnished  the 
strongest  claim  to  sympathy  and  tenderness.  “Thou 
shalt  not  curse  the  deaf”  [even  though  he  cannot  hear 
it,]  “ nor  put  a stumbling-block  before  the  blind  ” [even 
though  he  cannot  see  it].*  It  is  a beautiful  trait  of  some 
savage  tribes  that  they  regard  as  sacred  the  persons  of 
the  insane.  They  do  not  dare  to  irritate  the  mind  that 
has  been  troubled  by  a mysterious  visitation  of  God.  So 
under  the  Hebrew  Law,  death,  sorrow,  widowhood,  or- 
* Lev.  xix.  14. 


154 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


phanage,  all  threw  a shield  of  protection  over  the  desolate 
and  the  unhappy.  By  this  spirit  of  humanity  infused  into 
the  relations  of  life,  all  the  members  of  the  community — 
the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  strong  and  the  weak — were  united 
in  fellowship  and  fraternity.  One  sacred  tie  bound  them 
still  closer  : not  only  were  they  of  the  same  race  and  na- 
tion, but  they  had  an  equal  share  in  the  same  religious  in- 
heritance ; all  were  fellow-citizens  with  the  saints,  and  of 
the  household  of  God. 

Thus  did  the  Hebrew  Commonwealth  contain  in  itself 
the  two  principles  of  theocracy  and  democracy  in  perfect 
union — a union  in  which  there  was  the  greatest  freedom 
consistent  with  order,  and  a degree  of  equality  hardly  to 
be  found  in  any  other  ancient  or  modern  state.  And  I 
make  bold  to  affirm  that  there  is  not,  that  there  never  has 
been,  and  never  will  be,  any  true  liberty  which  does  not 
receive  its  inspiration  from  the  same  source.  Not  that 
modern  governments  are  to  adopt  the  theocratic  form,  but 
that  the  spirit  which  recognizes  God  as  the  Supreme  Ruler 
of  nations  as  well  as  of  individuals,  which  inspires  loyalty 
and  obedience  to  Him,  is  the  only  spirit  which  consists 
with  liberty.  No  free  state  can  keep  its  liberty  which  has 
not  God  as  its  Protector.  Men  cannot  proteci  themselves  ; 
they  need  to  be  protected  against  themselves.  Man  is  by 
nature  selfish,  and  if  invested  with  unlimited  power,  he  is 
by  nature  a tyrant.  Men  are  the  oppressors  of  men,  and 
there  is  nothing  against  which  society  and  individuals  need 
to  be  protected  so  much  as  “ man’s  inhumanity  to  man.” 

Let  the  student  of  history  make  a special  study  of  the 
History  of  Liberty,  and  see  how  all  spasmodic  attempts 
like  those  of  the  French  Revolution  have  perished  igno- 
miniously,  because  there  was  no  power  in  mere  liberty  to 
restrain  the  natural  passions  of  men.  The  Paris  Commune 
may  placard  the  walls  of  the  city  with  the  high-sounding 


THEOCRACY  AND  DEMOCRACY. 


155 


words,  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity ; yet  what  do  these 
amount  to,  so  long  as  there  is  nothing  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people  to  check  the  universal  selfishness  ? The  catchwords 
of  modern  democracy  will  be  powerless  among  a people 
who  believe  in  nothing,  and  care  for  nothing,  but  them- 
selves. They  may  disguise  their  selfishness  in  political 
phrases,  as  in  forms  of  politeness ; yet  they  will  be  the 
same  as  before — just  as  unscrupulous  of  the  rights  of  oth- 
ers, just  as  eager  to  grasp  everything  for  themselves.  Ex- 
periments at  self-government  by  such  a people  have  but 
little  promise  of  success.  Liberty  soon  x’uns  into  license  ; 
a spirit  of  lawlessness  ends  in  anarchy,  and  anarchy  at  last 
is  drowned  in  blood.  Human  selfishness  is  a force  so  ex- 
plosive that  it  shatters  all  the  limitations  that  can  be  put 
round  it,  to  compress  and  confine  it,  save  only  a military 
despotism,  in  which  such  experiments  at  liberty  generally 
end. 

For  all  these  ills  of  society  there  is  but  one  effectual 
cure.  Religion  alone  restrains  men  on  the  one  hand,  and 
inspires  them  on  the  other  ; and  without  that,  as  the  vital 
element  working  in  the  state,  there  can  never  be  true  lib- 
erty. It  is  God  alone  “ whose  service  is  perfect  freedom  ” ; 
who  is  the  Creator  of  all  men,  and  before  whom  all  are 
equal ; and  looking  up  to  whom  in  humble  love  and  trust, 
men  feel  that  they  are  children  of  one  Father,  and  are 
bound  heart  to  heart  in  universal  brotherhood. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 

Mild  and  humane  as  were  many  features  of  the  He- 
brew Law,  it  had  one  blot  which  cannot  be  effaced — its 
criminal  law  was  the  most  harsh  and  cruel  that  ever 
stained  the  annals  of  mankind.  So  say  its  enemies,  of 
whom  there  are  many,  for  it  stands  in  the  way  of  many 
pi'oposed  changes  and  “reforms.”  The  advocates  of  the 
abolition  of  capital  punishment  find  it  an  obstacle,  to  re- 
move which  they  must  question  not  only  the  inspiration 
of  Moses,  but  his  wisdom  and  humanity.  Forty  years 
ago  there  was  a movement  in  the  State  of  New  York 
to  abolish  the  punishment  of  death,  and  its  principal 
advocate  made  an  elaborate  report,  some  pages  of  which 
are  devoted  to  the  Hebrew  legislation.*  The  Mosaic  his- 
tory, he  declares,  “ is  impressed  on  every  page  with  the 
stamp  of  the  superhuman — the  superhuman  at  times 
running  into  the  inhuman.”  Like  every  man  of  intel- 
ligence who  has  made  a study  of  history,  he  regards  not 
only  with  curiosity  but  veneration  the  most  ancient  body 
of  laws  which  has  come  down  to  us,  while  he  considers 
it  wholly  unfitted  to  an  age  and  a country  so  highly  civil- 
ized as  ours.  Its  punishments  are  so  disproportioned 
to  the  offence,  that  “ it  would  be  a perfect  insanity  of 
ferocity  and  fanaticism  to  think  of  applying  them  at  the 

* Report  in  favor  of  the  Abolition  of  the  Punishment  of  Death,  made 
to  the  Legislature  of  the  State  of  New  York,  April  14, 1841,  by  John  L. 
O’Sullivan. 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW. 


157 


present  day.”  With  laws  so  rigid  and  unbending,  en- 
forced by  penalties  so  barbarous  and  cruel,  he  does  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  “ The  Code  of  Moses  was  scarcely  less 
sanguinary  than  that  which  the  Athenian  legislator  was 
said  to  have  written  in  blood ! ” 

This  is  a formidable  indictment,  and  yet  it  must  be 
confessed  that  there  is  a pretty  strong  presumption  of 
severity  in  the  number  of  capital  crimes.  In  America 
the  penalty  of  death  is  rarely  inflicted  except  for  wilful, 
deliberate  murder.  Other  offences — such  as  arson  and 
highway  robbery — have  been,  and  in  some  states  still 
are,  capital  : but  the  number  has  been  gradually  dimin- 
ished, till  in  the  actual  administration  of  justice  they 
are  reduced  to  one,  and  even  in  that,  such  is  the  morbid 
feeling  of  juries,  that  a conviction  is  with  difficulty  ob- 
tained. 

What  then  shall  be  thought  of  a code  in  which  there 
were  seventeen  capital  crimes  ? Could  a people  be  said 
to  have  emerged  from  barbarism  which  could  only  be 
kept  under  control  by  such  sanguinary  enactments  ? But 
Great  Britain  was  considered  a civilized  country  two  hun- 
dred years  ago,  and  yet  there  were  on  its  statute  books 
one  hundred  and  forty-eight  offences  which  were  pun- 
ishable with  death,  some  of  which,  such  as  poaching, 
we  should  consider  as  of  a very  petty  character,  hardly 
to  be  spoken  of  as  crimes.  * In  the  Hebrew  laws 
the  punishment  of  death  wTas  always  for  crimes  which 
struck  at  the  very  foundations  of  society  (even  though 
in  some  cases  our  milder  law’s  may  treat  them  as 
light  offences),  as,  for  example,  disobedience  to  parents 
and  contempt  of  parental  authority.  This  v’as  a relic  of 
patriarchal  times.  The  earliest  form  of  human  govern- 

* Wines’s  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  the  Ancient  Hebrews, 
p.  263. 


158 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


ment  was  the  authority  which  a father  assumed  over  his 
children.  Traces  of  this  primitive  rule  are  found  in  all 
ancient  nations.  Among  the  early  Romans  a father  had 
the  right  of  life  and  death.  Much  of  this  spirit  lingered 
among  the  Hebrews.  The  parent  had  not,  indeed,  abso- 
lute disposal  of  the  life  of  a child.  Still  his  authority  was 
very  great.  And  it  is  a beautiful  feature  of  the  Hebrew 
law  that  it  made  sacred  that  parental  supremacy  which 
nature  ordains.  It  required  the  young  to  render  to  the 
aged  outward  marks  of  reverence  : “ Thou  shalt  rise  up 
before  the  hoary  head,  and  honor  the  face  of  the  old 
man.”*  "Whoever  struck  his  father  or  mother,  or  cursed 
them,  committed  a capital  crime. f And  in  extreme  cases, 
a son  who  was  utterly  ungovernable  might  be  given  up 
to  the  same  punishment. J The  great  lawgiver  judged 
that  an  incorrigible  son  was  a hopeless  member  of  soci- 
ety, and  he  was  therefore  cut  off  in  the  beginning  of  his 
career  to  ruin.  If  under  our  laws  disobedience  to  parents 
is  made  a light  offence,  it  is  a question  whether  that  is  to 
be  put  to  the  credit  of  our  civilization. 

So  the  Hebrew  laws  were  more  strict  than  ours  in 
protecting  female  chastity.  The  nations  around  the  Isra- 
elites were  sunk  in  the  vices  of  Sodom.  Lest  they  should 

* Lev.  six.  32.  + Ex.  xxi.  15. 

t “ If  a man  have  a stubborn  and  rebellious  son,  which  will 
not  obey  the  voice  of  his  father  or  the  voice  of  his  mother,  and 
that  when  they  have  chastened  him,  will  not  hearken  unto  them  ; 
then  shall  his  father  and  his  mother  lay  hold  on  him,  and  bring 
him  out  unto  the  elders  of  his  city,  and  unto  the  gate  of  his 
place ; and  they  shall  say  unto  the  elders  of  his  city,  This  our 
son  is  stubborn  and  rebellious ; he  will  not  obey  our  voice ; he 
is  a glutton  and  a drunkard.  And  all  the  men  of  his  city  shall 
stone  him  with  stones  that  he  die  : so  shalt  thou  put  evil  away 
from  among  you ; and  all  Israel  shall  hear  and  fear.”  Deut.  xxi. 
18-21. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD 


159 


be  snared  in  such  practices,  these  horrible  pollutions  were 
punished  with  death.  All  licentious  connection  with 
strangers  was  a capital  offence.  In  one  instance  an 
Israelite  who  brought  a foreign  woman  into  the  camp  was 
killed  on  the  spot.*  This  severity  was  deemed  necessary 
where  the  contagion  of  such  examples  tempted  to  fre- 
quent offences  against  purity.  Something  was  conceded 
to  the  ancient  customs  of  the  East,  in  tolerating  polygamy 
and  divorce.  Christ  said  that  for  the  hardness  of  their 
hearts  Moses  suffered  them  to  put  away  their  waves,  f 
But  beyond  this  hardship,  the  law  surrounded  the  feebler 
sex  with  a wall  of  fire.  Violence  to  them  was  a capital 
crime.  So  were  adultery  and  incest.  In  cases  of  seduc- 
tion, the  guilty  party  was  compelled  to  make  reparation. 
A man  who  seduced  a maiden  was  obliged  to  marry  her  ; 
and  he  forfeited  the  right,  possessed  by  other  husbands, 
of  giving  her  a divorce.  J If  her  father  refused  to  permit 
the  marriage,  the  seducer  was  required  to  pay  her  a 
dowry.  § Moses  was  jealous  of  intermarriage,  and  speci- 
fied minutely  the  limits  of  kindred  within  which  alliances 
were  prohibited.  ||  The  least  contact  with  impurity,  how- 
ever innocent,  inferred  a ceremonial  uncleanness,  which 
had  to  be  expiated  by  a seclusion  and  rites  of  purification. 
Thus  his  law  refined  the  popular  sentiments  and  manners 
and  morals.  If  the  sacredness  attached  to  the  virtue  of 
woman  be  a mark  of  the  degree  of  a people’s  civilization, 
the  Hebrews  were  greatly  in  advance  of  all  other  Oriental 
nations. 

The  laws  for  the  protection  of  property  were  singular, 
but  certainly  they  were  not  severe.  They  were  substan- 
tially the  same  which,  as  we  have  seen,  are  still  the  law 
of  the  desert.  The  main  principle  was  restitution  of 

* Numbers  xxv.  f Matt.  xix.  8.  J Deut.  xxii.  29. 

§ Ex.  xxii.  16,  17.  ||Lev.  xviii. 


160 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


whatever  was  wrongfully  taken,  with  ample  compensation 
for  loss.  Certain  property  was  still  further  protected. 
As  the  Israelites  depended  for  food  upon  their  flocks,  he 
who  stole  a sheep  was  compelled  to  restore  fourfold. 
Oxen  were  still  more  necessary  for  their  use  in  agricul- 
ture, as  the  Israelites  had  no  horses  until  the  time  of 
Solomon.  A stolen  ox,  therefore,  was  to  be  restored 
fivefold.  These  laws  might  be  easily  enforced  among  a 
simple  agricultural  people,  where  the  kinds  of  property 
were  few,  and  the  same  possessed  by  all. 

Lest,  however,  the  thief  should  make  way  with  the 
property,  and  then  escape  by  a poor  debtor’s  oath,  the  law 
provided  that  in  case  he  could  not  make  restitution,  he 
should  be  sold  as  a slave  to  indemnify  the  man  whom  he 
had  robbed.  This  may  seem  a harsh  addition  ; but  when 
it  is  remembered  that  no  Hebrew  could  be  sold  for  more 
than  six  years,  the  punishment  will  appear  singularly 
mild,  especially  compared  with  the  law  of  England,  which, 
until  recently,  punished  with  death  not  only  highway  rob- 
bery, and  coining,  counterfeiting,  and  forgery,  but  even 
petty  larcenies. 

Last  and  greatest  of  crimes  in  the  scale  of  ordinary 
criminal  law,  are  those  against  the  person  and  against  life. 
Here,  if  anywhere,  we  shall  find  the  track  of  blood.  The 
law  is  indeed  rigid  and  relentless.  Here  it  is  in  all  its 
severity  : “ Life  for  life,  eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  hand 
for  hand,  foot  for  foot,  burning  for  burning,  wound  for 
wound,  stripe  for  stripe.”  * This  our  Reformer  designates 
? as  “a  part  of  that  savage  and  monstrous  lex  talionis  so 
abhorrent  to  the  express  injunctions  as  well  as  to  the 
whole  spirit  of  Christianity.”  “ The  law  of  revenge  con- 
stitutes one  of  the  very  fundamental  principles  in  the  code 
of  Moses — its  cruel  injunctions  sanctioning  all  the  most 
* Ex.  xxi.  23-25. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


161 


cruel  impulses  of  the  savage  heart.”  It  is  time  that  it  was  . 
sometimes  perverted  to  sanction  private  revenge — a per-  1 
version  which  was  rebuked  by  Christ,  who  repudiated  it  as 
a rule  of  individual  conduct.  It  was  never  intended  to 
legalize  hatred,  and  taking  the  law  into  one’s  own  hands. 
The  Old  Testament,  as  well  as  the  New,  required  a spirit  of 
forgiveness  : “ Thou  slialt  not  hate  thy  brother  in  thine 
heart ; thou  shalt  rob  avenge,  nor  bear  any  grudge  against 
the  children  of  t:  y p ople,  but  thou  shalt  love  thy  neigh- 
bor as  thyself.”  * 

The  only  sense  in  which  retaliation  was  authorized, 
was  as  a maxim  of  law,  which  helped  to  fix  the  measure 
of  punishment  for  crime.  As  such  it  is  the  first  impulse 
of  rude,  primitive  justice  ; and  it  was  the  mode  of  punish- 
ment which  was  at  once  the  simplest,  the  most  natural, 
and  the  most  easily  administered.  Indeed  in  many  cases 
it  was  the  only  mode  possible.  How  would  our  modern  re- 
formers punish  such  offences  ? By  putting  the  malefactor 
in  prison  ? But  where  was  the  prison  on  the  desert  ? The 
penalty  of  imprisonment  was  unknown  among  the  He- 
brews in  the  time  of  Moses.  Twice  a man  is  said  to  have 
been  “ put  in  ward  ” until  the  Divine  sentence  could  be 
declared.  But  except  the  prison  in  which  Joseph  was 
confined  in  Egypt,  we  do  not  read  of  such  a thing  until 
the  period  of  the  Jewish  kings.  On  the  desert  the  only 
possible  penalty  was  one  which  could  be  indicted  on  the 
person  of  the  offender,  and  here  the  principle  of  strict 
retaliation  for  the  crime  committed,  rigid  as  it  may  seem, 
was  perfectly  just.  It  was  right  that  he  who  inflicted  a 
wound  upon  his  neighbor  should  feel  himself  how  sharp 
and  keen  a wound  may  be  ; that  he  who  ferociously  tore 
his  brother’s  eye  from  its  socket,  should  forfeit  his  own. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  same  law  was  adopted  by 
*Lev.  xix.  17,  18. 


162 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


the  two  most  enlightened  states  of  antiquity,  Athens  and 
Rome.  Solon  even  went  further  than  Moses,  and  enacted 
that  “whoever  put  out  the  only  eye  of  a one-eyed  man, 
should  lose  both  his  own.”  * Is  it  said  this  is  still  press- 
ing the  claim  of  justice  beyond  the  limits  of  humanity? 
I reply,  the  extreme  severity  of  these  punishments  may 
have  been  the  only  means  to  restrain  the  outbreaks  of 
passion  and  to  prevent  the  acts  which  required  such  retri- 
bution. 

It  has  been  well  observed  that  such  a law  could  be 
enforced  only  where  there  was  a general  equality  among 
the  citizens.  In  the  later  days  of  Rome,  when  the  spoils 
of  many  lands  had  enriched  a few  powerful  families,  this 
principle  of  strict  retaliation  was  abolished,  and  fines  sub- 
stituted as  a compensation  for  crime.  But  as  the  fine  was 
no  punishment  to  a Roman  patrician,  the  law  was  no  pro- 
tection to  the  poor.  The  old  Hebrew  justice  alone  made 
all  men  equal.  By  that,  the  body  of  every  man  was  sacred 
and  inviolable.  The  hard  hand  of  the  laborer  was  as 
precious  as  the  soft  hand  of  the  rich.  The  injured  man 
might,  indeed,  take  pecuniary  indemnity.  But  he  might 
refuse  it,  and  insist  on  blood  for  blood.  Certainly  this 
was  a stern  law  ; but  it  afforded  a powerful  protection  to 
the  weak.  No  man  dared  to  lay  upon  them  the  hand  of 
violence. 

The  laws  against  murder  followed  the  same  inexorable 
rule — life  for  life — a law  in  which  there  was  no  element  of 
pardon  and  pity.  But  Moses  did  not  create  it.  It  has 
been  the  law  of  the  desert  for  thousands  of  years.  "When 
that  old  bearded  Sheikh  of  all  the  Bedaween  of  Sinai,  sit- 
ting under  the  shadow  of  a great  rock  in  the  desert, 
explained  to  us  the  operation  of  the  lex  talionis  in  his 

* Michaelis’s  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  Moses,  Vol.  III., 
p.  453. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


1G3 


tribe,  be  set  before  us  not  only  tbat  which  now  is,  but  that 
which  has  been  from  the  very  beginning  of  time.  It  was 
somewhat  startling  indeed  to  find  that  laws  and  customs 
which  we  had  supposed  to  belong  only  to  an  extreme 
antiquity,  still  lingered  among  these  mountains  and  des- 
erts. The  blood-feud  existed  among  the  Hebrews  as  it 
did  among  the  Arabs.  Kindred  in  race,  they  had  the 
same  fierce  and  implacable  spirit  as  the  descendants  of 
Ishmael.  Their  resentments  were  quick  and  uncontrolla- 
ble. No  sooner  had  a man  fallen  than  his  nearest  relative 
became  the  avenger  of  his  blood,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
pursue  and  take  the  life  of  the  murderer.  To  a certain 
extent,  Moses  was  obliged  to  yield  to  this  impulse  of  exas- 
peration and  of  wounded  honor.  It  were  easy,  indeed,  to 
forbid  the  Hebrew  to  seek  retaliation  ; but  it  was  not  easy 
to  enforce  such  a law  where  it  was  a point  of  honor  for  a 
man  to  take  justice  into  his  own  hands.  Here  comes  the 
difficult  task  of  the  legislator — to  deal  with  popular  pas- 
sions and  prejudices,  and  to  soften  barbarous  customs 
which  he  cannot  wholly  eradicate.  It  is  very  interesting 
to  compare  the  unwritten  law  of  the  desert  with  the  com- 
mandments of  Moses ; and  to  see  how,  in  dealing  with 
usages  which  he  could  not  wholly  suppress,  he  yet  modi- 
fied them  in  the  interest  of  justice  and  humanity.  He 
adopted  a novel  method  to  disarm  the  rage  of  the  in- 
jured Israelite,  which  showed  his  thorough  understand- 
ing of  the  popular  passions.  He  did  not  forbid  directly 
the  attempt  to  take  revenge,  but  gave  full  scope  to  the 
natural  feeling  of  resentment  and  indignation.  The 
avenger  of  blood  might  follow  with  swift  foot  upon  the 
murderer’s  track,  and  if  he  overtook  him  and  put  him  to 
death,  the  law  held  him  free.  But  at  the  same  time  it 
gave  the  criminal  a chance  for  his  life.  Six  cities  were 
designated — three  on  either  side  Jordan — as  Cities  of  Ref- 


164 


TIIE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


uge.  They  were  sacred,  as  inhabited  by  the  priests,  and 
the  avenger  of  blood  could  not  enter  them.  They  stood 
on  the  great  highways  of  the  country,  and  the  roads  to 
them  wrere  always  to  be  kept  open.  To  these  the  man- 
slayer  might  flee.  Here  he  was  safe  until  he  could  have 
a fair  trial.  He  was  protected  from  the  first  burst  of  the 
avenger’s  fury  till  his  crime  should  receive  an  impartial 
examination.  In  case  of  accidental  homicide,  or  of  man- 
slaughter committed  in  a moment  of  passion,  he  was  not 
put  to  death,  although,  as  a matter  of  safety,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  reside  for  a time  in  the  City  of  Refuge,  since 
such  was  the  popular  feeling  that  he  could  not  appear 
abroad.*  Thus  indirectly,  but  most  effectually,  did  Moses 
guard  against  a sudden  and  bloody  revenge.  Even  the 
author  of  this  Report  admits  that  this  feature  of  the  Jew- 
ish law  was  “ perhaps  the  utmost  mitigation  practicable 
of  the  existing  practice  and  irresistible  passion”  of  a 
“ semi-savage  ” race. 

On  the  other  hand,  if,  upon  trial,  the  refugee  were 
found  to  have  committed  deliberate  murder,  this  sanc- 
tuary should  not  protect  him,  but  he  might  be  torn  from 
the  altar,  and  given  up  to  justice."}"  For  this  great  crime 
the  punishment  was  death,  without  redemption  or  com- 
mutation. Mahomet  allowed  the  kinsman  to  take  pe- 
cuniary compensation  for  the  blood  of  his  relative.  But 
the  law  of  Moses  was  absolute  : “ Ye  shall  take  no  satis- 
faction for  the  life  of  a murderer.”  J But  the  crime  must 
be  clearly  proved.  It  must  be  premeditated,  as  when  one 
lay  in  wait  for  his  victim.  The  circumstances  of  the  act 
must  establish  beyond  a question  that  it  was  a cool,  delib- 
erate murder.  Thus  the  death  must  be  caused  by  a 
weapon,  and  not  by  a blow  inflicted  with  the  fist.  And 

* For  the  fullest  account  of  the  Cities  of  Refuge,  see  Numbers  xxxv. 
fEx.  xxi.  14.  t Numbers  xxxv.  31,  33. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


165 


lest  the  accused  should  be  hastily  condemned,  Moses 
incorporated  in  his  statutes  that  provision,  which  is 
deemed  one  of  the  greatest  securities  of  modern  law,  that 
a man  should  not  be  convicted  of  a capital  crime  on  the 
testimony  of  a single  witness.* 

An  additional  barrier  to  a rash  and  unjust  decision 
was  the  severity  with  which  the  law  punished  perjury. 
Whoever  testified  against  another  falsely,  was  liable  to 
the  penalty  of  the  very  crime  of  which  he  had  accused 
his  neighbor  : “ Then  shall  ye  do  unto  him,  as  he  had 
thought  to  have  done  unto  his  brother.  And  thine  eye 
shall  not  pity,  but  life  shall  go  for  life.”  f With  such  a 
retribution  in  prospect,  few  would  attempt  to  swear  away 
the  life  of  an  enemy.  If  the  accused  were  condemn- 
ed to  die,  when  brought  to  the  place  of  execution,  the 
witnesses  against  him  were  required  to  throw  the  first 
stones.  The  most  hardened  villain,  who  had  carried  a 
brazen  front  through  all  the  forms  of  trial,  could  hardly 
support  this  crowning  infamy  of  being  the  executioner  of 
an  innocent  man.  He  would  tremble,  and  turn  pale,  and 
the  fatal  stone  would  drop  from  his  perjured  hand. 

Perhaps  nothing  shows  more  the  spirit  of  a law  than 
the  modes  of  execution  for  those  who  are  to  suffer  its 
extreme  penalty.  Some  may  tliinh,  if  a man  is  to  die,  it 
matters  little  in  what  way  he  is  put  to  death.  But  if  it 
affects  not  the  fate  of  the  criminal,  it  does  matter  as  indi- 
cating the  spirit  of  a people.  Barbarous  nations  generally 
choose  the  most  savage  and  cruel  modes  of  punishment. 
Modem  refinement  has  introduced  the  scaffold  and  the 
guillotine  as  the  least  revolting  form  of  execution. 
Soldiers  who  disobey  orders,  have  the  honor  of  being 
shot,  while  vulgar  criminals  are  hanged. 

But  it  is  not  two  hundred  years  since  torture  was 
* Deut.  xvii.  6.  f Deut.  xix.  16-20. 


166 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


laid  aside  by  European  nations.  James  the  Second  him- 
self witnessed  the  wrenching  of  “ the  boot,”  as  a favorite 
diversion.  The  assassin  who  struck  Henry  the  Fourth, 
was  torn  limb  from  limb  by  horses,  under  the  eye  of 
ladies  of  the  Court.  The  Inquisition  stretched  its  victims 
on  the  rack.  Other  modes  of  execution,  such  as  burning 
alive,  sawing  asunder,  and  breaking  on  the  wheel,  were 
common  in  Europe  until  a late  period.  The  Turks 
impaled  men,  or  flayed  them  alive,  and  tied  women  in 
sacks  with  serpents,  and  threw  them  into  the  Bospho- 
rus. 

Among  the  ancients,  punishments  were  still  more 
excruciating.  The  Roman  people,  so  famous  for  the 
justice  of  their  laws,  inflicted  the  supreme  agony  of 
crucifixion,  in  which  the  victim  lingered  dying  for  hours, 
or  even  days.  After  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  Titus 
ordered  two  thousand  Jews  to  be  crucified ! How  does 
this  act  of  the  imperial  Romans  compare  with  the  crimi- 
nal law  of  “ a semi-savage  race  ” ? 

Under  the  Hebrew  code  all  these  atrocities  were 
unknown.  Moses  prescribed  but  two  modes  of  capital 
punishment,  the  sword  and  stoning.  The  first  was 
inflicted  by  the  avenger  of  blood,  who,  pursuing  a mur- 
derer, overtook  him  on  the  road,  and  instantly  despatched 
him.  The  assassin  was  not  beheaded,  but  thrust  through, 
or  despatched  in  any  way.  For  a criminal  who  was  tried 
and  condemned,  the  ordinary  mode  of  execution  was  ston- 
ing ; certainly  the  most  simple,  as  it  required  no  scaffold, 
and  no  weapon  but  the  stones  of  the  desert,  and  which 
must  have  caused  death  almost  instantly.  * If  a criminal 
had  been  a notorious  offender,  his  body  might  be  burned 

* Later  in  the  Jewish  history  more  cruel  forms  of  punishment  were 
introduced,  such  as  easting  headlong  from  a precipice,  and  exposure 
to  wild  beasts.  But  for  these  Moses  was  not  responsible. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


167 


after  death,  or  hanged  on  a tree,*  as  a pirate  is  hung  in 
chains  on  a gibbet.  Sometimes  a heap  of  stones  was 
thrown  over  his  grave,  as  over  the  grave  of  Absalom. 

But  while  a wretch  might  be  exposed  to  these  posthu- 
mous indignities,  still,  however  enormous  his  crime,  its 
penalty  stopped  with  himself.  It  was  a first  principle  of 
the  law  of  Moses,  that  no  child  should  suffer  for  a father’s 
crime  : a declaration  unnecessary  in  our  codes,  since  no 
one  thinks  of  punishing  a murderer’s  child,  but  very  neces- 
sary in  the  old  Asiatic  world,  where  high  crimes  were  com- 
monly avenged  not  only  by  the  death  of  the  criminal,  but 
by  the  extermination  of  his  family.  But  the  law  of  Moses 
struck  the  head  of  the  guilty,  and  there  stopped.  No  son 
or  daughter  was  ruined  : no  hopeless  attainder  perpetu- 
ated the  curse  to  those  unborn. 

Still  further  : a ruler  who  delights  in  cruelty,  will  seek, 
where  he  does  not  inlict  death,  at  least  to  inflict  last- 
ing infamy.  Despots  have  often  regaled  themselves  with 
putting  out  the  eyes  of  malefactors,  or  of  prisoners  of  war, 
or  with  cutting  off  their  arms  or  legs,  or  branding  them 
with  a hot  iron,  so  that  they  should  cany  a mark  of  degra- 
dation to  the  grave.  But  of  all  this  not  a trace  appears  in 
the  laws  of  Moses.  No  torture,  no  branding,  no  infamous 
punishment!  Stripes  were  inflicted  for  petty  offences. 
But  this  punishment  implied  no  lasting  dishonor,  as  we 
may  be  sure  from  the  fact  that  it  was  often  imposed  on 
the  proud  Roman  soldiers  for  slight  breaches  of  discipline. 
Moses  limited  the  number  of  stripes  to  forty,  for  the 
express  reason,  that  there  should  not  attach  to  this  chas- 
tisement too  great  ignominy  : “ If  the  wicked  man  be 
worthy  to  be  beaten,  the  judge  shall  cause  him  to  lie 
down,  and  to  be  beaten  before  his  face,  according  to  his 
fault,  by  a certain  number.  Forty  stripes  he  may  give  him, 
* Deut.  sxi.  22. 


168 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


and  not  exceed  ; lest  if  lie  should  exceed,  and  beat  him 
above  these  with  many  stripes,  then  thy  brother  shall  seem 
vile  unto  thee.”  * So  scrupulous  were  the  Jews  in  regard- 
ing this  prohibition,  that  they  always  stopped  one  short, 
and  inflicted  forty  stripes  save  one.  In  a single  instance 
only  did  the  law  allow  maiming,  and  that  was  in  case  of 
retaliation  upon  a criminal  who  had  mutilated  the  body  of 
another. 

That  the  law  was  not  animated  by  a vindictive  spirit, 
appears  from  this  very  significant  token — that  it  discour- 
aged informers.  Despotisms  are  always  suspicious  and 
cruel.  They  send  out  spies  to  watch  the  people.  They 
bribe  informers.  But  the  Hebrew  government  was  not 
vexatious  or  inquisitorial.  It  did  not  harass  the  people. 
Moses  employed  no  secret  police.  He  forbade  the  propa- 
gating of  malicious  rumors  : “ Thou  shalt  not  go  up  and 
down  as  a tale-bearer  among  thy  people.”  Informers  were 
not  allowed  to  approach  the  authorities,  except  in  cases  of 
idolatry  or  of  unknown  murder. 

Such  was  the  Criminal  Law  of  the  Hebrews — stern  in- 
deed, but  not  “ inhuman  ” or  unjust.  Of  course  it  will  not 
find  favor  with  sentimental  apologists  for  crime  : for  it  was 
not  shorn  of  its  terror  by  those  easy  pardons  which  take 
away  the  dread  of  punishment,  and  almost  the  sense  of 
guilt.  Moses  believed  in  law,  and  that  law  was  made  to 
be  obeyed.  No  law-breaker  found  indulgence  from  him. 
He  punished  disobedience  with  unsparing  severity  ; the 
murderer  and  the  blasphemer  felt  his  iron  hand.  Yet 
never  was  a lawgiver  more  gentle  to  the  children  of  sor- 
row, and  “to  all  who  are  desolate  and  oppressed.”  Never 
did  the  awful  form  of  justice  seem  bending  with  more 
of  compassion  for  human  weakness  and  infirmity,  and  for 
every  grief  and  pain. 

* Deut.  xxv.  2,  3. 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


169 


And  is  this  the  Law  that  was  “ written  in  blood  ” ? No, 
not  in  blood,  but  in  tears  : for  through  the  sternness  of 
the  lawgiver  is  continually  breaking  the  heart  of  the  man. 
Behind  the  coat-of-mail  that  covers  the  breast  of  the  war- 
rior, is  sometimes  found  the  heart  of  a woman.  This  union 
of  gentleness  with  strength  is  one  of  the  most  infallible 
signs  of  a truly  great  nature  : “ Out  of  the  strong  cometh 
forth  sweetness.”  So  was  it  with  Moses  : with  a natural 
delicacy  and  tenderness,  made  still  more  sensitive  by  his 
own  peculiar  experience.  His  life  had  been  one  of  many 
trials,  of  loneliness  and  exile,  and  we  can  well  believe  that 
the  thoughtful  provisions  that  appear  even  in  the  midst  of 
rigorous  statutes,  were  the  suggestions  of  his  own  sad 
memories,  the  blessed  fruit  of  sorrow.  It  is  this  mingling 
of  the  tender  and  the  terrible  that  gives  to  the  Hebrew 
Law  a character  so  unique — a majesty  that  awes,  with  a gen- 
tleness that  savors  more  of  parental  affection  than  of  sever- 
ity. Crime  and  its  punishment  is  not  in  itself  a pleasing 
subject  to  dwell  on  ; but  when  on  this  dark  background  is 
thrown  the  light  of  such  provisions  for  the  poor  and  the 
weak,  the  effect  is  like  the  glow  of  sunset  on  the  red  gran- 
ite of  the  Sinai  mountains.  Even  the  peaks  that  were  hard 
and  cold,  look  warm  in  the  flood  of  sunlight  which  is  pour- 
ed over  them  all. 

Thus  uniting  the  character  of  the  Supporter  of  Weak- 
ness and  Protector  of  Innocence,  with  that  of  the  Punisher 
of  Crime,  Moses  appears  almost  as  the  divinity  of  his  na- 
tion— as  not  only  the  founder  of  the  Hebrew  state,  but  as 
its  guardian  genius  through  all  the  periods  of  its  history. 
When  he  went  up  into  Mount  Nebo,  and  stretched  out  his 
arm  towards  the  Promised  Land,  which  lay  in  full  view  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Jordan,  he  gave  to  that  land  the  in- 
estimable blessing  of  laws  founded  in  eternal  justice,  and 
not  only  laws  founded  in  justice,  but  laws  in  which  human- 


170 


THE  CRIMINAL  LAW  : 


ity  was  embodied  almost  as  mucb  as  in  the  precepts  of  re- 
ligion. None  were  so  poor  and  helpless  but  found  shelter 
under  the  protection  of  the  great  Lawgiver.  The  orphans 
of  many  generations  looked  back  to  him  as  their  father. 
The  widow  in  the  vale  of  Sarepta  blessed  him.  The  blind 
that  groped  by  the  pool  of  Bethesda  had  their  way  smooth- 
ed by  his  command.  The  deaf  that  sat  mute  amid  the 
laughs  of  a joyous  company,  were  safe  from  cruel  sneers. 
The  slaves  were  grateful  to  him  as  their  liberator,  and  all 
classes  of  the  wretched  as  having  lightened  the  miseries  of 
their  condition. 

Nor  was  that  Law  given  to  the  Israelites  alone.  It  was 
an  inheritance  for  all  ages  and  generations.  That  mighty 
arm  was  to  protect  the  oppressed  so  long  as  human  gov- 
ernments endure.  Moses  was  the  king  of  legislators,  and 
to  the  code  which  he  left  rulers  of  all  times  have  turned 
for  instruction.  Thence  Alfred  and  Charlemagne  derived 
statutes  for  their  realms.  To  that  code  turned  alike  the 
Puritans  under  Cromwell,  who  founded  the  Commonwealth 
of  England,  and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  who  founded  the 
Commonwealths  of  New  England. 

“Whence  had  this  man  this  wisdom,”  surpassing  all  the 
ancient  sages  ? Is  it  said  : He  was  “ learned  in  all  the 
wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,”  and  derived  his  laws  from 
them  ? Yet  he  could  not  learn  from  them  a wisdom  they 
did  not  possess.  The  framework  of  his  government  was 
as  unlike  that  of  Egypt,  as  his  role  was  unlike  that  of  the 
Pharaohs.  Indeed  the  Hebrew  state  would  seem  to  have 
been  constructed  on  the  principle  of  being  in  all  things 
the  opposite  of  the  tyranny,  the  injustice,  the  inequality 
and  the  oppression,  which  were  the  rule  in  every  Oriental 
state.  The  features  which  most  command  our  admiration 
are  those  of  which  there  was  absolutely  no  example.  They 
were  wholly  original,  and  must  be  ascribed  to  the  genius 


WAS  IT  WRITTEN  IN  BLOOD  ? 


171 


of  Moses,  if  not  to  the  inspiration  of  God.  Hence  they 
who  deny  the  Divine  origin  of  the  Hebrew  Polity,  bear 
the  highest  testimony  to  the  splendor  of  that  intellect 
which  created  it.  If  all  was  the  product  of  one  mind,  it 
is  the  most  illustrious  instance  in  history  of  the  power  of 
a great  spirit  to  impress  itself  on  the  race.  The  name  of 
Moses  stands  alone,  as  the  greatest  of  antiquity,  and  the 
Hebrew  law  remains  as  its  most  wonderful  monument. 

In  harmony  with  the  solitary  grandeur  of  such  a life, 
was  the  manner  of  death — alone  and  on  a mountain 
top.  Moses’  work  was  done.  Through  forty  years  of 
desert  wandering,  he  had  led  the  children  of  Israel  to  the 
borders  of  the  Promised  Land.  Yet  that  land  he  was  not 
permitted  to  enter  ; it  was  for  others  to  reap  the  fruit  of 
his  labor.  He  had  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  die.  For 
this  he  went  up  into  a mountain,  from  which  he  saw  the 
sun  setting  over  the  Western  hills,  and  knew  that  the  time 
for  his  own  sun  to  set,  had  come.  There  he  died,  and 
“ no  man  knoweth  of  his  sepulchre  unto  this  day.” 

But  what  though  his  place  of  burial  be  unknown,  his 
“ sceptred  spirit  ” still  rules  kingdoms  and  nations  that 
were  not  born  till  centuries  and  millenniums  after  his  dust 
had  mingled  and  been  lost  in  the  boundless  soil  of  Asia. 
“ His  hue  has  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  his  words 
to  the  end  of  the  world.”  His  laws  have  been  translated 
into  all  the  languages  of  men,  and  their  spirit  and  influ- 
ence have  affected  the  legislation  of  all  civilized  countries. 
Thus  the  empire  of  the  dead  extends  over  the  living,  and 
words  spoken  on  the  desert  more  than  three  thousand 
years  ago,  which  seemed  to  die  away  upon  the  hollow 
wind,  are  caught  up  and  passed  on  from  age  to  age,  and 
from  one  hemisphere  to  another,  by 

“ Those  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men’s  names 
On  sands  and  shores  and  desert  wildernesses.” 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 

"We  had  been  musing  so  long  on  the  past  that  we  bad 
almost  forgotten  the  present,  when  suddenly  a stroke  of 
the  Convent  bell  recalled  us  to  our  situation.  Our  time 
at  the  foot  of  Sinai  was  drawing  to  a close.  We  must  go 
out  once  more  upon  the  plain,  and  look  upon  the  face 
of  the  Mount  that  might  be  touched.  “Yohanna,  order 
the  camels ! ” We  mounted,  and  rode  out  to  survey  again 
the  plain  of  Er  Rahah ; and  every  time  we  turned  and 
looked  upward,  the  impression  was  confirmed  that  the 
height  above  us  was  indeed  the  Mount  of  God.  Ap- 
proaching still  nearer,  we  drew  up  at  its  very  foot,  and 
looked  aloft  at  the  tremendous  cliffs  which  hung  over  us. 
Perhaps  some  knowledge  of  this  was  in  the  mind  of  John 
when  in  his  vision  of  the  Judgment  he  saw  the  guilty  call- 
ing upon  the  rocks  and  mountains  to  fall  upon  them,  and 
hide  them  from  the  face  of  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne. 
Following  a course  round  the  mountain  in  front,  as  we  had 
followed  one  on  the  other  side  to  ascend  Jebel  Mousa,  we 
entered  the  Wady  Leja,  where  are  traces  of  ancient  occu- 
pation, for  thither  pilgrims  came,  and  monks  made  their 
abode,  as  early  as  the  fourth  century,  and  there  in  time 
arose  a monastery,  which  afterwards  received  the  name  of 
the  Forty  Martyrs,  because  of  the  number  of  those  who 
fell  in  a massacre. 

The  region  about  Sinai  is  full  of  such  historical  associa- 
tions, which  give  it  an  interest  only  second  to  that  given  by 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


173 


tlie  Mosaic  narrative.  The  Convent  itself,  as  an  historic 
pile,  is  more  interesting  than  any  ancient  castle.  It  is  per- 
haps the  oldest  Convent  in  existence.  Though  founded 
only  in  555  by  the  Emperor  Justinian,  yet  more  than  two 
centuries  before,  the  Empress  Helena,  the  mother  of  Con- 
stantine, had  erected  a chapel  over  the  site  of  the  Burning 
Bush.  At  that  early  day  pilgrims  crossed  the  desert,  and 
monks  built  their  cells  in  the  rocks,  and  made  the  valley 
resound  with  their  anthems  and  their  prayers.  Where  a 
church  was  built,  of  course  a fortress  must  be  built  beside  it 
for  its  protection.  The  bloody  hand  of  Mahomet  could 
not  always  protect  it  against  the  tierce  tribes  of  the  Penin- 
sula. The  Convent  has  always  been  a post  of  danger,  as  it 
was  on  the  border-line  between  two  religions — Islam  and 
Christianity — or  rather,  in  the  territory  of  the  enemy, 
where  it  stood  as  a solitary  citadel  of  the  faith.  It  has 
often  had  to  stand  a siege,  when  nothing  but  its  walls  and 
towers  kejtt  it  from  destruction.  But  if  those  were  days  of 
peril  without,  they  were  days  of  prosperity  within.  Look- 
ing round  the  interior  of  the  Convent,  I observed  that  it 
was  surrounded  with  a corridor  on  each  story,  upon  which 
the  cells  of  the  monks  opened,  and  in  those  days  there 
were  hundreds  within  its  walls.  Ah  me  ! how  the  glory  of 
the  former  dispensation  has  departed,  when  now  there  are 
but  little  over  a score  to  keep  up  its  round  of  services,  and 
perpetuate  the  traditions  of  many  generations. 

As  we  came  back  to  the  Convent  after  our  excursion, 
it  was  no  longer  with  the  feeling  we  had  the  first  day, 
when  we  were  strangers  and  pilgrims.  We  now  felt  that 
we  were  coming  home,  for  we  had  become  quite  domesti- 
cated in  the  ancient  monastery.  The  good  monks  had 
done  everything  to  make  us  comfortable.  Beside  our 
rooms,  they  had  given  up  to  us  the  large  receiriion-room 
of  the  Convent,  in  which  they  left  us  undisturbed.  They 


174 


LIFE  IX  A CONTEXT. 


never  intruded  upon  us,  appearing  only  when  they  came 
at  our  call,  hut  were  always  ready  to  respond  to  any  little 
request  we  had  to  make,  showing  us  through  the  Church, 
the  Chapel  of  the  Burning  Bush,  and  the  Library.  Of 
course  we  did  not  accept  this  as  a free  gift..  When  it 
came  to  the  settling,  we  paid  as  much  as  we  should  have 
paid  at  the  first  hotel  in  Cairo.  But  no  matter  for  that  : 
we  were  none  the  less  glad  that  we  could  obtain  such  ac- 
commodation at  any  price,  and  recorded  our  acknowledg- 
ments in  the  Visitors’  Book,  saying,  as  we  could  in  all 
sincerity,  that  we  were  “ most  grateful  for  their  kindness 
and  hospitality.”  The  privilege  that  we  prized  the  most 
was  the  use  of  the  reception-room,  where  we  could  sit 
all  day,  reading  and  writing,  as  if  we  were  in  our  libra- 
ries at  home  ; while  we  heard  just  enough  of  the  life  of 
the  Convent  that  went  on  around  us  to  fill  our  ears  with  a 
drowsy  hum,  and  to  fall  in  with  our  desire  for  undisturbed 
repose.  Towards  evening  we  would  go  up  on  the  roof 
to  watch  the  sunset  as  it  touched  the  red  tops  of  the 
granite  mountains,  and  to  inhale  the  evening  wind  that 
came  up  the  valley.  Miss  Martineau,  when  she  was  here 
some  forty  years  ago,  was  struck  with  the  wild,  strange 
beauty  of  this  narrow  pass — a beauty  not  unmingled  with 
terror,  when  she  thought  of  what  it  must  be  at  other  sea- 
sons of  the  year.  She  writes  : “ How  the  place  can  be 
endured  in  Summer,  I cannot  conceive.  The  elevation  of 
the  whole  region,  it  is  true,  is  such  that  the  season  is  more 
backward  than  that  of  Cairo  by  two  months  ; but  this  ele- 
vation can  avail  little  to  an  abode  placed  in  an  abyss  of 
bare  rocks.  I was  struck  with  this  the  first  night,  when  I 
went  out  into  our  corridor  after  ten  o’clock  to  see  the 
moon  come  up  between  two  peaks,  her  light  being . already 
bright  on  the  western  summits.  Still  and  sweet  as  was  tbe 
scene — the  air  being  hazy  with  moonlight  in  this  rocky 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


175 


basin — there  was  something  oppressive  in  the  nearness  of 
the  precipices,  and  I could  not  but  wonder  what-  state  of 
nerve  one  would  be  in  during  Summer  and  in  seasons  of 
storm.  The  lightning  must  fill  this  space  like  a flood,  and 
the  thunder  must  die  hard  among  the  echoes  of  these  steep 
barriers.”  “ What  must  the  reverberating  thunder  have 
been  among  these  precipices  to  the  Hebrews,  who  [in 
Egypt]  had  scarcely  ever  seen  a cloud  in  the  sky  ! ” 

This  Convent  life  was  not  unpleasant,  especially  when 
enlivened  with  social  intercourse.  Our  friend,  the  Archi- 
mandrite, was  always  ready  to  come  into  our  rooms,  and 
have  a chat  over  a cup  of  coffee.  Dr.  Post  had  removed 
a sty  from  one  of  his  eyes,  for  which  he  was  very  grateful, 
expressing  the  utmost  satisfaction  at  the  relief  he  had  ob- 
tained, “grace  a Dieu  et  a monsieur  le  docteur.”  I had 
half  a suspicion  (confirmed  by  what  I learned  afterwards) 
that  he  was  in  exile  for  some  ecclesiastical  offence,  perhaps 
heresy  or  insubordination  to  his  superiors.  He  had  not 
been  long  in  the  desert ; he  had  lived  in  cities,  and  seemed 
to  like  to  talk  of  the  world  he  had  left  behind.  There 
was  an  old  Archbishop  of  Gaza,  perhaps  in  exile  too,  but 
who  certainly  bore  his  expatriation  with  remarkable  seren- 
ity, for  never  was  a prelate  more  smiling  and  benignant. 
He  looked  as  if  he  were  overflowing  with  goodness,  and 
always  ready  to  pronounce  a benediction. 

With  the  rest  of  the  brethren  we  had  just  enough  ac- 
quaintance to  make  our  intercourse  pleasant.  We  came 
to  know  them,  and  they  to  know  us,  and  when  we  met  in 
the  court  or  on  the  corridors,  they  gave  us  a kindly  recog- 
nition, and  seemed  pleased  with  the  sight  of  strange  human 
faces.  There  are  now  twenty-four  members,  who  form  a 
community  entirely  among  themselves,  being  quite  apart 
from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Some  of  them  have  been  here 
thirty  or  forty  years,  perhaps  not  once  in  all  that  time  leav- 


176 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


ing  these  mountains.  Indeed  I was  told  that  several  of 
them  had  not  been  outside  the  Convent  in  twenty  years. 
All  the  affairs  of  the  household  are  managed  by  them- 
selves. Some  of  the  menial  offices  are  performed  by  Arab 
servants,  but  every  species  of  handicraft  is  wrought  by  the 
monks.  Dr.  Post,  who  had  the  case  for  his  plants  broken, 
found  here  a very  good  tinsmith.  Any  one  whose  gar- 
ments are  torn,  or  whose  shoes  are  worn  out  i user  ambling 
over  the  rocks,  may  find  a tailor  and  a cobbler  to  patch 
them  up  again. 

But  all  this  is  apart  from,  and  subordinate  to,  their  one 
great  vocation,  which  is  to  pray.  They  tinker  a little  and 
cobble  a little,  but  they  pray  a great  deal.  Their  lives  are 
spent  in  prayer.  Seven  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  are 
given  to  devotion.  Several  times  in  the  day  we  hear  a 
stroke,  as  with  a hammer,  on  a nalcus  [a  bent  iron  bar] — 
a sound  which,  like  the  voice  of  the  muezzin  from  the  min- 
aret, calls  the  faithful  to  prayer.  The  reception-room  is 
near  the  chajjel,  so  that  the  voices  of  the  monks  come  to 
us  distinctly  through  the  open  windows  ; and  we  should 
be  dull  indeed  if  we  could  sit  unmoved  at  the  chanting  of 
the  songs  of  the  ages,  and  of  prayers  which  in  different 
tongues  are  repeated  in  all  the  communions  of  Christen- 
dom. Nor  are  these  hours  of  devotion  confined  to  the 
day-time  : fully  one-half  are  taken  from  the  night.  At 
three  o’clock  in  the  morning  the  bell  of  the  church  awakes 
every  sleeper  in  the  Convent.  It  is  now  Lent,  and  there 
are  more  hours  of  prayer  and  special  services,  which  are 
always  open  to  strangers.  To  one  of  these,  on  Sunday 
morning,  I was  particularly  invited,  and  was  quite  dis- 
posed to  accept  ; although,  to  confess  the  truth,  the  ser- 
vice was  a little  early  and  a trifle  late,  commencing  an  hour 
after  midnight,  and  ending  at  seven  o’clock ! In  such  a 
case  I did  as  many  do  : I came  late  and  went  early — that 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


177 


is,  I rose  at  four,  and  retired  at  five — one  hour  instead  of  sis ! 
But  what  a strange,  unearthly,  ghostly  hour  it  was ! The 
idea  of  such  a service  had  taken  hold  of  my  imagination. 
At  first  nothing  could  seem  more  akin  to  the  highest  spirit 
of  devotion.  To  pray  in  the  hours  of  darkness  and  of 
night!  So  Jesus  prayed  while  men  slept.  And  when  I 
came  out  on  the  balcony,  and  felt  at  once  all  the  holy  still- 
ness of  the  night,  through  which  the  waning  moon  was 
shining,  and  the  stars  were  looking  down  from  that  pure 
sky  of  Arabia,  “ so  wildly,  spiritually  bright,”  it  seemed 
indeed  as  if  this  were  an  hour  to  forget  the  world,  and 
draw  nigh  to  God  ; to  think  how  soon  our  little  day  of  life 
would  be  past,  and  we  “should  be  no  more  seen.”  I de- 
scended the  stairs,  crossed  the  court,  and  went  down  the 
stone  steps  (the  pavement  of  the  church  is  below  the  level 
of  the  court),  and  entered  the  church.  It  was  dimly  light- 
ed. All  the  monks  were  there.  One,  who  had  been  look- 
ing for  me,  conducted  me  to  one  of  the  stalls  reserved  for 
the  brethren,  where  I was  in  the  centre  of  the  line.  Oppo- 
site me  a priest  was  standing  at  a desk,  with  his  book  open 
before  him,  on  which  fell  the  light  from  a shaded  lamp  sus- 
pended over  it,  and  out  of  which  he  was  reading,  or  rather 
chanting,  in  a dreary  monotone,  to  which  a younger  priest 
beside  me  occasionally  responded.  The  service  was  in 
Greek,  and  contained  many  things  which  would  be  ap- 
proved by  Christians  of  all  communions.  They  read  the 
Epistles  and  the  Gospels,  the  Lord’s  Prayer  and  the  Apos- 
tles’ Creed ; they  chanted  the  Psalms  of  David  and  the 
Te  Deum  of  Ambrose.  All  this  was  excellent,  nor  could 
anything  be  more  impressive  (were  it  accompanied  by  a 
little  of  the  appearance  of  devotion)  than  the  prayers  of 
Chrysostom  and  Basil,  mingled  with  the  old  majestic 
strains  of  John  of  Damascus. 

Suddenly  there  came  a change  in  the  scene  : all  the 


178 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


bells  in  the  church-tower  (there  are  nine  of  them — a full 
chime)  began  to  ring,  not  to  call  the  monks,  for  they 
were  already  there,  but  as  if  to  summon  the  spirits  of  the 
dead,  or  angels  hovering  in  the  air,  to  bend  lower  to  wit- 
ness the  grand  ceremony  of  the  prostration  before  the 
cross.  The  curtain  which  screened  the  inner  sanctuary 
was  drawn  aside,  and  the  priest  emerged  in  gorgeous 
robes,  supported  or  followed  by  others  with  lighted  can- 
dles, bearing  on  a salver  raised  above  his  head  a cruci- 
fix surrounded  with  flowers,  which  was  placed  on  a low 
stand  in  the  centre  of  the  nave,  around  which  the  monks 
circled  three  times,  and  to  which  they  made  repeated 
prostrations.  What  degree  of  heart-worship  there  may 
have  been  in  this,  I cannot  tell ; but  to  me  it  looked  only 
like  a sacred  pantomime. 

As  I sat  amid  such  strange  surroundings,  I almost  lost 
my  personal  identity.  Who  was  I,  to  be  here  at  this  hour 
of  night  in  a monastery,  sitting  in  a monk’s  chair,  and 
listening  to  these  mournful  chantings— these  prayers  for 
the  living  and  the  dead  ? I was  already  far  gone  into  the 
region  of  shades,  and  it  seemed  doubtful  if  I should  ever 
return  to  the  living  world  again,  if  I had  not  escaped  to 
the  upper  air,  where,  in  the  silence  and  peace  of  the  night, 
finding  that  the  world  was  still  unchanged,  that  the  stars 
were  still  above  me,  and  the  mountains  round  about  me,  I 
recovered  consciousness,  and  my  soul  entered  again  into 
the  body.  But  it  is  hard  to  shake  off  the  feeling  of  unnat- 
uralness which  has  taken  possession  of  me.  I feel  as  if  I 
were  in  a dream  : I see  men  as  trees  walking.  Every  nook 
and  comer  of  this  old,  rambling  Convent-Castle  is  haunted 
by  the  spirits  of  the  dead.  The  place  is  full  of  ghosts.  I 
hear  them  at  night  when  the  winds  howl  and  moan  amid 
the  creaking  timbers,  and  sigh  along  the  walls,  and  die 
away  through  the  passes  of  the  mountains.  It  seems  as 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


179 


if  whole  generations  of  monks  were  coming  back  to  haunt 
the  abodes  once  familiar  to  them.  Hark ! what  was  that 
piercing  sound?  Was  it  the  wind,  or  was  it  the  shriek  of 
some  wretched  monk  who  passed  from  life  unrepentant 
and  unforgiven,  and  who  now  has  come  back  after  an  age 
of  suffering  in  Purgatory  to  say  a Midnight  Mass  for  his 
despairing  soul  ? 

But  if  the  question  be  whether  this  round  of  religious 
exercises  has  any  very  important  influence  in  making  men 
spiritually  better,  a candid  observer  must  shake  his  head. 
At  first  one  who  listens  in  a musing  mood  to  these  mid- 
night devotions,  would  think  that  out  of  such  vigils  and 
prayers  must  spring  the  consummate  flower  of  piety ; 
that  these  men,  who  are  so  holy  that  they  cannot  live 
with  their  fellows,  but  dwell  apart,  must  be  better  than 
others ; that  all  their  conversation  must  be  in  heaven, 
and  their  lives  be  spent  in  deeds  of  charity. 

But  let  us  see.  I observed  the  next  morning  that  there 
was  a strange  silence  in  the  Convent.  Having  taken  the 
night  to  pray,  they  took  the  day  to  sleep.  These  hours  of 
prayer  were  not  then  so  much  added  to  the  usual  times 
for  devotion,  but  only  night  turned  into  day  that  day 
might  be  turned  into  night.  Was  there  in  this  any  spir- 
itual gain  ? 

As  to  the  pretensions  of  superior  sanctity,  any  such 
impression  is  quickly  dispelled.  It  is  enough  to  look  in 
the  faces  of  these  men  to  see  that  they  are,  with  scarce 
an  exception,  of  a low  stamp.  They  are  very  ignorant. 
The  Archimandrite  tells  me  there  is  not  a really  learned 
man  among  them.  One  or  two  I have  seen  walking  in  the 
avenues  of  the  garden  who  had  a scholarly  look,  but  the 
mass  of  them  are  utterly  without  education.  Three  or 
four  can  neither  read  nor  write. 

But  how  can  such  men  find  admission  into  a religious 


180 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


order?  This  question  is  answered  by  considering  how 
these  communities  are  formed.  Men  do  not  always  join 
them  from  religious  motives.  Many  enter  a monastery  as 
a refuge  from  poverty.  In  the  Greek  Church  some  of 
the  barefooted  orders  are  replenished  as  the  Shakers  are 
replenished  in  America,  by  recruits  taken  out  of  the  poor- 
house.  Some  of  the  brethren  here  are  not  a whit  above 
men  who  could  be  picked  out  of  any  decent  almshouse. 
I do  not  see  really  bad  faces,  but  they  are  common  and 
coarse — faces  with  which  one  cannot  associate  any  idea  of 
spirituality.  One  or  two  of  the  younger  ones  look  as  if 
they  were  half-witted.  These  join  the  Convent,  not  from 
any  religious  impulse  or  inspiration,  but  as  a security 
against  want.  They  enter  as  laics,  and  are  put  to  do 
menial  offices.  Some  are  mere  scullions  : they  wash  the 
dishes,  they  clean  the  lamps  : and  if,  after  four  or  five 
years,  they  are  approved,  they  are  received  as  full  mem- 
bers of  the  order.  Their  priestly  functions  may  depend 
on  something  else  than  learning  or  piety.  One  of  the 
novitiates,  hearing  that  Dr.  Post  was  a physician,  came 
to  him  for  medicine  to  make  his  hair  grow,  for  he  said  he 
could  not  celebrate  the  mass  till  he  had  a beard ! He  is 
now  twenty-one,  and  his  beard  is  but  downy.  The  Doc- 
tor, who  was  much  amused  at  the  request,  advised  him  to 
send  to  Suez  or  Cairo  for  a bottle  of  Mrs.  Allen’s  Hair  Re- 
storer ! This  is  a new  qualification  for  a monk  on  Mount 
Sinai ! 

But  there  is  something  worse  than  ignorance.  They 
are  either  the  most  credulous  or  the  most  untruthful  of 
human  beings  : for  they  are  the  propagators  of  the  gross- 
est superstitions.  Never  were  there  such  gross  absurdities 
as  those  which  they  gravely  repeat  as  facts  of  sacred  his- 
tory. Near  the  foot  of  Ras  Sufsafeh  is  a granite  boulder, 
which  being,  as  an  Irishman  would  say,  “ quite  convan- 


LIFE  IN  A CONTENT. 


181 


yint,”  is  declared  to  be  the  one  on  which  Moses  broke  the 
tables  of  stone  when  he  came  down  from  the  Mount! 
Another  rock  is  pointed  out  as  the  mould  in  which  Aaron 
cast  the  golden  calf  ! The  Burning  Bush  Dr.  Post  finds  to 
be  a species  of  blackberry.  If  this  be  not  gross  imposture, 
it  is  childish  credulity.  But  a man  may  be  very  ignorant, 
and  even  superstitious,  and  yet  from  daily  communion 
with  spiritual  things,  may  grow  into  a higher  life,  which 
shall  show  itself  in  his  very  countenance.  Not  a trace  of 
this  does  one  see  here.  There  is  no  such  process  of 
gradual  elevation.  There  is  neither  natural  refinement 
nor  that  spirituality  which  comes  from  converse  with 
sacred  things.  Let  a monk  remain  here  forty  years,  and 
he  that  was  vulgar  is  vulgar  still,  and  he  that  was  filthy  is 
filthy  still 

Nor  is  their  life  one  of  self-denial.  Of  course  they 
submit  to  the  prescribed  fasts  of  the  Church.  It  is  now 
Lent,  when  the  fasts,  as  well  as  the  vigils,  are  kept  rigor- 
ously. They  will  not  touch  a particle  of  animal  food,  but 
they  will  drink  to  excess.  Almost  the  only  industry  which 
is  pursued  here,  is  making  a kind  of  brandy  out  of  the 
dates  of  the  palm  tree  ; and  this  not  being  prohibited, 
they  use  freely.  We  often  see  them  the  worse  for  liquor. 
Several  of  them  who  have  been  about  the  mountains  with 
us  as  guides,  before  the  day  wTas  over  have  been  in  a state 
of  intoxication.  It  takes  away  from  the  merit  of  fasts 
when  it  leads  to  this.  If  they  took  a little  more  of  simple, 
nourishing  food,  they  would  not  drink  so  much  brandy. 
Of  course  I am  not  particularly  edified  when  I see  these 
same  old  codgers  standing  in  their  places  in  the  church, 
intoning  their  prayers ! 

But  the  gravest  charge  which  I have  to  bring  against 
the  monks,  is  their  utter  indifference  to  the  poor  Bed- 
aween  by  whom  they  are  surrounded.  To  these  Arabs 


182 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


they  bear  a peculiar  relation.  When  Justinian  founded 
this  monastery,  he  endowed  it  with  two  hundred  slaves, 
to  be,  with  their  descendants,  its  servants  forever— its 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water.  The  descendants 
of  those  slaves  are  here  to-day,  and  so  kindly  and  wisely 
and  religiously  have  they  been  treated  by  their  Christian 
masters,  that  they  have  all  turned  Moslems ! Nor  do  I 
wonder.  The  holy  fathers  treat  them  like  beasts  of 
burden — their  camels  or  their  asses.  They  dole  out  to 
them  lumps  of  bread  hard  as  a stone,  such  as  one  would 
hardly  give  to  a camel.  In  the  cell  of  one  of  the  monks  I 
observed  a rawhide  hanging  on  the  wall.  One  of  our  party 
whispered  that  this  was  used  by  the  poor  man  for  self- 
flagellation.  O dear,  the  holy  man,  thus  to  do  penance  for 
his  sins ! But  a little  inquiry  drew  out  the  fact  that  it  was 
intended  for  no  such  spiritual  office.  Indeed  the  monk 
himself  was  much  amused  at  the  suggestion  of  his  doing 
penance,  and  laughed  heartily  as  he  indicated  by  word 
and  gesture  that  he  kept  it  to  flog  the  Arabs  ! 

It  goes  to  my  heart  to  wander  about  these  sacred 
mountains,  and  see  the  poverty  and  wretchedness  of  the 
people.  The  places  they  live  in  are  not  fit  for  cattle,  nor 
is  the  food  they  eat,  when  they  get  any,  which  is  not 
always  the  case.  Dr.  Post  asked  a little  fellow  what  he 
ate.  He  answered  by  naming  the  poorest  and  coarsest 
food.  “ Well,  if  you  don’t  have  any  food  ? ” He  answered 
with  a shrug,  drawing  his  poor  tattered  clout  over  his 
shoulders,  that  “ he  sat  down  on  the  ground  and  bore  it, 
till  God  should  send  some  ” ! The  American  party  of 
which  I have  spoken  were  greatly  captivated  by  the 
beauty  of  a little  fellow  (Mousa)  with  black  eyes  and 
graceful  form  and  pretty  manners.  Coming  down  from 
the  mountains,  we  met  his  mother  (veiled  of  course),  and 
saw  where  she  lived.  Her  only  house  was  a rock  which 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


183 


projected  a few  feet,  under  which  she  found  shelter. 
A little  fire  of  camel’s  offal  sent  up  a smoke  which  black- 
ened the  stone  above.  A couple  of  goats  were  lying  here 
as  a part  of  the  family.  Can  human  beings  live  in  such  a 
cave  ? And  yet  this  was  their  home  ; and  hundreds  of 
such  there  are,  into  not  one  of  which  does  this  rich  Con- 
vent, with  all  its  monks,  who  pray  seven  hours  a day,  cast 
one  ray  of  sunshine  or  of  hope. 

The  moral  of  all  this  is  that  a life  of  entire  separation 
from  the  world,  and  seclusion  in  a Convent,  is  not  the  way 
to  serve  God,  or  to  do  good  to  men.  A life  more  vacant 
of  all  high  purpose,  or  of  practical  usefulness,  I cannot 
conceive  of ; and  when  I went  into  the  charnel-house, 
where  are  piled  up  the  bones  of  whole  generations,  with 
a ghastly  array  of  skulls,  I felt  that  I saw  before  me  the 
mouldering  relics  of  so  many  wasted  lives.  Has  this 
ancient  Convent  done  anything  to  justify  its  establish- 
ment? One  service  indeed  it  has  rendered  to  Chris- 
tendom, in  the  preservation  of  the  Sinaitic  Manuscript, 
the  oldest  copy  of  the  Scriptures  in  existence.  But  for 
its  influence  on  the  population  around  it,  what  has  it 
done  ? It  has  stood  here  for  thirteen  hundred  years,  and 
what  fruit  can  it  show  ? It  is  rich  : it  has  possessions  in 
Austria  and  Bessarabia,  and  is  under  the  special  protection 
and  patronage  of  Kussia.  But  where  are  its  missions? 
Where  are  its  charities  ? Has  it  done  anything  to  convert 
these  tribes  ? The  best  answer  to  the  question  is  the  fact 
that  after  thirteen  centuries  it  contains  within  its  walls  the 
only  Christian  church  in  all  Arabia.  As  for  its  charities, 
it  has  had  thousands  of  Arabs  within  its  reach  and  under 
its  authority,  and  yet  it  has  left  them  as  degraded  and 
barbarous  as  before.  Such  is  the  testimony  of  history, 
which  carries  with  it  the  severest  condemnation.  If  the 
Convent  at  Mount  Sinai  is  to  be  kept  up  for  the  same 


184 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


purpose  as  tlie  hospice  of  the  Simplon,  or  that  of  the  Great 
St.  Bernard,  as  a refuge  for  travellers,  that  is  another 
matter.  To  the  devotion  thus  displayed  I would  pay  the 
highest  respect.  Never  did  I feel  more  reverence  for  any 
men  than  for  the  monks  under  whose  roof  I once  found 
shelter  on  the  Pass  of  the  Simplon.  If  there  were  the 
same  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  at  Sinai  as  on  the  Alps,  it 
would  be  counted  worthy  of  the  same  honor.  Certainly 
nowrhere  in  the  world  is  such  a place  of  refuge  more 
needed  than  among  these  mountains  and  deserts.  But 
that  is  quite  a different  thing  from  claiming  that  the 
Convent  which  we  now  find  here  is  an  abode  of  saints, 
a place  of  such  sacredness  that  to  make  a pilgrimage  to 
it  is  an  act  of  religious  merit,  and  to  live  in  it  is  to  be  in 
the  straight  and  narrow  path  to  heaven. 

If  I had  any  secret  fondness  for  the  monastic  life,  a few 
days  in  a monastery  would  be  quite  sufficient  to  disen- 
chant me.  I feel  no  temptation  to  turn  monk  : the  Con- 
vent cell  would  be  a prison  cell.  Indeed  a sentence  to  such 
a life  would  be  like  a sentence  to  death.  The  very  thought 
makes  me  shudder,  as  if  I were  descending  into  a tomb, 
on  which  a heavy  lid  of  blackest  marble  were  shutting 
down  upon  me.  It  seems  as  if  one  could  be  driven  to  thia 
life  only  by  the  direst  necessity,  or  by  superstitious  fear. 
It  is  said  that  Archbishop  Hughes  was  once  conversing 
with  some  Protestant  clergymen  in  regard  to  the  doctrine 
of  Purgatory,  when,  after  hearing  their  objections,  he 
ended  the  discussion  by  saying  “ Well,  gentlemen,  you 
' might  go  farther  and  fare  worse.”  This  was  Irish  wit,  if  it 
was  not  argument.  Certainly  it  would  require  the  most 
lurid  prospect  of  “ faring  worse  ” to  reconcile  me  to  the 
purgatory  of  being  buried  alive  in  a monk’s  cell ! 

And  yet  I do  not  like  to  part  from  our  companions  in 
the  Convent  with  words  of  censure.  Indeed  I feel  more 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


185 


inclined  to  pity  than  to  harshness.  Poor  old  creatures ! 
they  do  not  know  any  better.  At  least  they  have  been  kind 
to  us.  We  were  strangers,  and  they  took  us  in.  We  had 
spent  a few  days  together  in  perfect  friendliness,  and  now 
felt  a little  grieved  that  we  should  see  their  grizzled  locks 
no  more  ; though  we  were  amused  to  the  last  by  slight 
tokens  that  they  were  not  quite  above  some  touch  of 
human  infirmity.  The  morning  that  we  were  to  leave,  we 
were  up  very  early,  when,  as  I threw  open  the  door,  I saw 
the  Econome,  or  business  manager,  with  whom  we  had 
had  most  to  do,  walking  up  and  down  the  corridor.  It 
was  early  for  the  good  man  to  be  astir.  But  he  had  heard 
that  the  Howadjis  were  to  leave,  and  he  could  not  have 
them  depart  without  a tender  farewell.  It  were  base  to 
indulge  a suspicion  that  his  early  appearance  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  napoleon  that  was  presently  slipped  into 
his  hand.  But  that  certainly  did  not  abate  the  fervor  of 
his  demonstrations.  He  was  not  only  friendly,  but  affec- 
tionate. He  could  not  leave  me  out  of  his  sight ; he  clung 
to  me  like  a brother.  He  joked  and  laughed  with  me  ; he 
clapped  me  on  the  back. 

The  only  place  in  the  Convent  which  we  had  not  yet 
explored,  was  the  refectory,  where  the  monks  take  their 
meals.  On  our  expressing  a desire  to  see  it,  he  led  the 
way.  It  is  in  a far  corner  of  the  Convent,  in  a hall, 
which,  with  its  floor  of  stone  and  high  arched  roof,  might 
have  been  a chapel,  and  indeed  has  an  altar  in  it,  and  a 
small  pulpit,  or  reading-desk,  from  which  one  of  the 
brethren  reads  while  the  rest  partake  of  their  meagre 
repast.  The  table  did  not  look  attractive.  The  only  food 
was  hard  bread,  with  soup  of  vegetables  served  in  tin 
saucers,  regular  state’s-prison  fare  ; in  fact,  it  was  worse 
than  is  served  to  the  convicts  in  any  penitentiary  in  Amer- 
ica. During  Lent  they  have  but  one  meal  a day,  and  at 


186 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


no  time  do  they  take  meat  of  any  kind,  not  even  a chicken 
or  an  egg.  We  went  into  the  kitchen,  where  a large  pot 
of  lentils  was  boiling,  apparently  their  only  dish.  This 
was  the  very  food  for  which  Esau,  hungered.  I had  asked 
the  good  brother  playfully,  if  he  would  receive  me  as  a 
member  of  the  order  ? But  after  seeing  this,  I thought  it 
would  hardly  be  worth  while  to  sell  my  birthright  of  free- 
dom for  such  a mess  of  pottage. 

As  a contrast  to  this,  he  took  us  to  the  Bishop’s  room, 
which  was  quite  grand.  Attached  to  it  is  a private  chapel, 
which  contains  a number  of  small  paintings,  mostly  of 
saints.  But  one  represented  a ladder  reaching  to  heaven, 
up  which  monks  in  great  number  were  pressing  their  way 
to  where  Father  Abraham,  or  the  Heavenly  Father  (for 
they  do  not  scruple  to  represent  the  Supreme  Being),  with 
outstretched  arms,  was  waiting  for  them.  Unfortunately 
some  had  not  strength  for  the  ascent,  and  were  falling  off 
into  the  reach  of  devils,  who,  armed  with  long  forks,  like 
Neptune’s  trident,  stood  ready  to  spear  the  wretches,  and 
toss  them  over  to  the  place  of  burning.  This  was  designed 
to  be  a terror  to  delinquent  monks  ; but  the  jolly  Econome 
seemed  not  to  mind  it,  but  made  himself  merry  over  the 
picture.  Evidently  the  fear  of  future  retribution  did  not 
sit  heavy  on  his  soul. 

Meanwhile  busy  preparations  were  going  on  for  our 
departure.  I had  heard  the  sound  thereof  from  an  early 
hour.  As  I had  looked  out  of  a porthole,  I saw  a proces- 
sion of  camels  at  the  gate,  even  before  it  was  opened  ; and 
when  we  descended  to  the  yard,  there  were  lying  on  the 
ground  camels  enough  to  furnish  a caravan.  It  appeared 
that,  as  the  supply  was  greater  than  the  demand,  there  was 
a lively  competition  for  the  honor  of  bearing  our  sacred 
persons.  It  is  said  that  there  are  four  families  in  the  val- 
ley who  do  the  carrying  trade,  and  as  there  is  not  work 


LIFE  IN  A CONVENT. 


187 


enough  for  all,  each  claims  a share.  We  left  it  to  the 
sheikh  and  the  dragoman  to  settle  it  between  them.  At 
length  all  was  arranged.  Our  friend,  the  Econome,  came 
down  into  the  yard  to  see  us  mount,  giving  us  each  a little 
cup  of  manna  as  a token  of  his  regard  ; the  Archiman- 
drite was  there  also  to  bid  us  farewell  ; while  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Gaza,  taking  his  morning  walk  on  the  roof, 
looked  down  benignantly,  and  wished  us  a pleasant  jour- 
ney. Then  at  the  word  of  command  the  camels  rose  up 
with  their  burdens,  and  amid  a general  waving  of  hands 
and  mutual  good  wishes,  we  filed  slowly  out  of  the  arched 
gate  of  the  Convent  of  Mount  Sinai,  and  turned  our  faces 
towards  Jerusalem. 


h 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


LEAVING  SINAI PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

When  one  has  made  the  pilgrimage  to  Mount  Sinai, 
there  follows  the  practical  question,  how  to  get  hack  again. 
Travellers  generally  return  direct  to  Suez,  which  is  at 
once  the  nearest,  the  easiest,  and  the  safest  route.  The 
distance  from  the  Wells  of  Moses,  where  we  took  our 
camels,  to  the  Convent,  is  one  hundred  and  fifty-three 
miles,  which  can  he  passed  over  hy  vigorous  marching  in 
six  days.  But  that  is  excellent  travelling  on  the  desert. 
A camel’s  pace  does  not  commonly  exceed  two  and  a half 
miles  an  hour  (one  that  can  go  three  miles  is  a very  brisk 
stepper),  so  that  it  requires  ten  hours  on  a camel’s  hack 
to  make  twenty-five  miles.  But  once  at  Suez,  the  slow 
moving  and  the  hardship  are  all  over.  The  traveller  is 
within  “ striking  distance  ” of  any  point  he  may  wish  to 
reach.  He  touches  hoth  the  railroad  and  the  telegraph, 
and  is  thus  within  the  limits  of  civilization.  He  can 
return  in  a few  hours  to  Cairo  or  Alexandria  ; or  if  hound 
to  the  Holy  Land,  can  leave  the  railroad  at  Ismailia,  and 
take  a hoat  down  the  Suez  Canal  to  Port  Said,  from  which 
a night’s  sail  will  land  him  at  Jaffa. 

But  it  is  not  always  the  shortest  route  which  is  the 
most  attractive  to  tourists.  Having  reached  Sinai,  we 
were  not  at  all  inclined  to  retrace  our  steps,  and  traverse 
the  same  wadies  and  the  same  wastes  of  sand  as  before. 
We  preferred  to  take  a longer  way  round,  which,  though 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


189 


it  might  prove  rougher  and  more  fatiguing,  should  still 
have  the  attraction  of  novelty. 

Our  first  plan  had  been  to  go  to  Akaba,  at  the  head  of 
the  Gulf  of  that  name,  a six  days’  march,  and  from  there 
to  Petra,  four  days,  and  from  Petra  to  Hebron,  or  Gaza, 
six  days — twenty  in  all,  which,  with  four  days  at  Petra, 
and  four  days  of  Sabbath  rest,  would  make  just  four  weeks. 
This  route  would  take  us  to  a point  of  great  interest  in 
the  journeyings  of  the  Israelites,  Mount  Hor,  on  which 
Aaron  died.  Petra  too  has  in  its  rock-temples  attractions 
well  known  to  travellers.  The  only  drawback  to  the 
pleasure  of  such  a trip,  is  that  this  ancient  city  and  the 
region  about  it  are  held  by  some  of  the  worst  Bedaween 
in  all  the  East.  Petra  has  long  been  notorious  for  its 
fierce  and  turbulent  tribes,  who  demand  enormous  back- 
sheesh from  strangers  who  would  pass  through  then- 
country.  Mr.  Cook  told  me  in  Cairo  that  he  had  paid  a 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  to  get  a party  through  ; that  of 
late  all  expeditions  that  had  been  planning  to  go  that  way, 
had  been  broken  up  ; and  that  he  had  declined  to  take 
the  responsibility  of  sending  any  more.  There  were 
stories  of  travellers  being  taken  prisoners,  and  held  for 
ransom.  At  Sinai  it  was  said,  that  even  if  we  were  to 
enter  Petra,  we  might  not  be  allowed  to  stay  there — a pre- 
sumption that  was  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  a Ger- 
man gentleman  and  his  wife,  who  left  Sinai  a few  days 
before  us.  They  set  out  boldly  for  Petra,  and  reached  it, 
but  were  only  allowed  to  remain  over  night,  being  driven 
out  the  next  morning,  glad  to  escape  without  the  loss  of 
all  they  carried  with  them,  if  they  had  not  suffered  also 
the  loss  of  life.  Even  could  we  reach  Petra,  and  be 
allowed  to  remain  long  enough  to  see  it,  we  were  told 
that  it  was  doubtful  if  we  could  pass  beyond  it,  for  that 
the  region  between  Petra  and  Hebron  was  held  by  tribes 


190 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


who  were  in  deadly  hostility,  between  whom  there  was  a 
blood-feud,  which  found  vent  in  constant  fighting.  Of 
course  it  would  be  the  height  of  imprudence  to  venture 
between  such  combatants.  In  that  case  we  should  be 
obliged  to  return  to  Akaba,  and  then  march  four  days 
across  the  desert  to  Nukhl  to  strike  another  “ trail.”  All 
this  would  involve  a loss,  in  going  to  Petra  and  returning 
to  Akaba,  and  diverging  to  the  direct  route,  of  a couple  of 
weeks  time  (it  might  involve  much  more  if  we  were  for- 
cibly detained),  which  we  had  not  to  spare,  as  we  wished  to 
be  in  Jerusalem  at  the  Holy  Week.  These  considerations 
finally  decided  us,  very  reluctantly,  to  give  up  Petra. 

After  all  this,  was  it  not  provoking  that  our  friends  of 
the  other  American  party,  who  left  Sinai  the  same  morn- 
ing, did  go  to  Petra,  and  remain  there  three  days,  and  did 
not  have  to  return  to  Akaba,  but  went  on  direct  to  IXebron, 
and  arrived  in  Jerusalem  only  a week  or  ten  days  after 
us?  However,  when  they  told  us  the  story  of  their 
experience,  our  envy  was  subdued.  They  got  through 
by  the  skin  of  their  teeth,  and  this  owing  to  the  fact  that 
they  had  a dragoman  who  was  a Moslem  from  Alexandria 
(ours  was  a Syrian  from  Beirut),  who  had  a personal 
acquaintance  with  the  sheikh  at  Petra,  to  whom  he  had 
once  rendered  some  service  (I  believe  he  had  saved  his 
life),  and  by  whose  favor  he  secured  protection.  Before 
starting,  he  told  me  privately  that  he  thought  it  a rash 
venture,  but  hoped  he  could  get  his  party  through.  He 
did  get  them  through,  but  at  the  price  of  such  extortions 
and  annoyances  that  we  were  not  at  all  sorry  not  to  have 
followed  their  example.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  drago- 
man’s personal  acquaintance  with  the  sheikh,  who  stood 
guard  with  him  over  the  tents,  they  would  have  been 
utterly  “ cleaned  out.”  All  the  time  they  were  there,  they 
were  surrounded,  not  only  from  morning  to  evening,  but 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


191 


all  night  long,  by  insatiable  Bedaween,  incessantly  demand- 
ing backsheesh,  and  ready  to  steal  if  the  guard  were 
relaxed  a moment.  A villain  would  come  into  one  of  the 
tents,  and  sit  down  on  a trunk,  and  then  demand  back- 
sheesh to  get  off ! Another  thrust  a paper  into  the  hand 
of  one  of  the  party,  who  took  it,  thinking  the  Arab  might 
be  offended  at  its  refusal,  when  the  rascal  went  off,  but 
returned  and  demanded  in  a threatening  manner  ten 
pounds  for  the  precious  document!  These  little  atten- 
tions of  course  made  Petra  a delightful  retreat  for  a few 
days,  even  if  one  could  not  have  it  as  a permanent  resi- 
dence. The  dragoman  told  me  in  Jerusalem  that  he  had 
to  pay  over  a hundred  pounds  to  get  clear  of  the  place ! 
When  they  finally  took  their*  departure,  they  were  followed 
by  a last  proof  of  attachment,  in  finding  a Bedawee 
stationed  on  a hillside  behind  a tree,  armed  with  a shot- 
gun, with  which  he  threatened  to  fire  upon  them  if  they 
did  not  pay  some  preposterous  demand!  To  this  they 
answered,  not  with  money,  but  with  powder  and  ball. 
After  an  exchange  of  shots,  they  charged  upon  him,  and 
dragged  him  down,  and  finally  left  him  tied  hand  and  foot, 
and  half  dead,  by  the  roadside.  These  things  are  more 
exciting  to  hear  of  than  agreeable  to  experience,  and  after 
listening  to  their  tale,  we  were  quite  willing  that  our 
friends  should  have  all  the  glory,  as  they  had  all  the 
annoyances,  of  such  an  expedition. 

But  between  this  difficult  if  not  dangerous  route  by 
Petra,  and  going  back  directly  on  our  path,  there  was 
a middle  course,  which  would  follow  half  way  a return 
route  to  Suez — parallel  to  that  by  which  we  came,  but 
farther  away  from  the  sea — and  then  strike  off  into  the 
Great  and  Terrible  Wilderness,  passing  midway  between 
the  Gulfs  of  Suez  and  Akaba,  and  crossing  the  great 
Desert  of  the  Wandering,  by  which  we  should  come  up 


192 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


through,  the  Plain  of  Philistia,  and  enter  Palestine  by  the 
South  Country,  coming  out  at  Hebron,  or  Gaza.  This 
route  would  be  entirely  new,  and  in  the  latter  part  of 
it,  at  least,  would  have  a spice  of  danger  which  would 
be  an  agreeable  excitement.  This  decided  our  wavering 
choice. 

With  such  a route  marked  out  on  the  map,  as  we  left 
Sinai  we  picked  our  way  over  the  ledge  of  rocks  which 
lies  along  the  garden  of  the  Convent,  and  rode  down  the 
narrow  pass  of  the  Wady  ed  Deir,  keeping  an  eye  on  the 
cliffs  which  towered  on  the  left.  As  we  came  near  their 
base,  we  passed  the  camp  of  the  other  American  party, 
whose  camels  were  being  made  ready  for  their  long 
march.  We  had  now  before  us  the  plain  of  Er  Eahah, 
but  we  were  not  to  cross  it  again,  nor  to  climb  that  fear- 
ful Pass  of  the  Winds,  but  bore  away  to  the  right,  passing 
the  hillock  on  which  Aaron  set  up  the  Golden  Calf ! A 
more  authentic  spot  is  the  tomb  of  a Moslem  saint,  who 
was  a contemporary  of  the  Prophet  himself,  and  whose 
virtues  are  celebrated  in  the  Koran.  Here  the  Bedaween 
of  Sinai  gather  in  great  numbers  at  a festival  every  year, 
which  they  celebrate  with  sacrifices  and  feasting  and 
camel-races,  and  other  sports  of  the  desert.  At  this  point 
we  parted  from  our  friends,  not  to  see  them  again  till  we 
met  in  Jerusalem.  They  kept  to  the  east,  while  we  fol- 
lowed the  wady  which  circled  round  the  base  of  the 
mountains.  All  this  time  we  had  been  in  sight  of  Eas 
Sufsafeh,  and  we  could  hardly  go  half  a mile  without 
turning  our  camels  to  take  one  more  look.  Thus  we 
slowly  retired  from  this  mountain  presence,  half  shrink- 
ing from  it  with  awe,  while  yet  it  held  us  by  the  fas- 
cination of  its  sublimity.  At  length  there  came  a bend 
in  our  course,  and  we  lingered  long  before  we  could 
withdraw  our  gaze.  We  were  to  see  Sinai  again  from 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


ID  3 


more  distant  points  ; but  this  nearer  sight  we  could  have 
no  more. 

We  were  now  in  the  Wady  es  Sheikh,  which  may  almost 
be  called  the  Amazon  of  the  river  system  which  winds 
about  in  this  wilderness  of  mountains.  It  seems  to  be  a 
misnomer  to  speak  of  a river  without  water,  but  the  river 
is  not  always  thus  dried  up.  There  are  seasons  when  the 
dry  bed  becomes  a torrent.  The  Peninsula  of  Sinai  is  vis- 
ited at  times  by  terrific  storms,  producing  a sudden  del- 
uge, in  which  the  barren  wadies  become  the  channels  of 
great  streams,  and  these  mountain-sides  are  the  rocky 
shores  of  foaming  rivers. 

But  for  the  present  we  have  no  water — only  the 
mountains.  But  these  are  so  grand  that  we  arc  never 
weary  of  observing  their  giant  masses,  their  varied  forms, 
and  the  marvellous  richness  of  their  coloring.  There  is 
a certain  fitness  in  Mount  Sinai  being  a solid  mass  of 
granite  : that  the  oldest  and  most  enduring  of  rocks 
should  furnish  the  throne  for  the  announcement  of  a 
Law  which,  in  its  essential  principles  of  justice,  dates 
from  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  and  will  endure  to  all 
generations. 

We  have  now  before  us  objects  which  are  older  than 
Moses.  He  lived  over  three  thousand  years  ago  ; these 
mountains  have  been  standing,  the  geologists  wall  tell  us, 
three  millions ! Whether  they  are  right  in  their  calcula- 
tions or  not,  certainly  for  the  data  of  the  geological  prob- 
lem, it  would  be  impossible  to  find  a more  interesting  re- 
gion. It  presents  peculiar  facilities  for  study,  in  the  fact 
that  the  rocks  are  all  uncovered.  These  mountains  have 
been  stripped  of  their  masses  of  vegetation  ; they  have  no 
such  dense  forests  as  those  which  cover  the  lower  sides  of 
the  Swiss  Alps.  Here  the  rock-ribbed  hills  are  all  ex- 
posed, as  if  they  would  tell  the  story  of  their  origin,  and 


194 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


of  an  existence  which,  to  beings  whose  lives  are  short  as 
ours,  seems  like  eternity  itself. 

The  mere  sight  of  these  great  formations  raises  a ques- 
tion even  in  the  most  unscientific  mincl  as  to  the  harmony 
of  the  record  contained  in  the  rocks  with  the  Mosaic  chro- 
nology. One  thing  all  must  admit,  that  the  world  is  more 
than  six  thousand  years  old,  and  that  the  six  periods  of 
creation  could  not  have  been  six  days  of  twenty-four  hours, 
but  six  successive  epochs,  during  which  the  earth  under- 
went great  geological  changes.  No  one  who  looks  up  at 
these  giant  cliffs,  which  the  torrents  have  cleft  asunder, 
can  resist  the  impression  of  enormous  lapses  of  time. 
These  wadies  have  been  produced  by  the  action  of  water. 
As  the  Niagara  river  has  worn  its  way  back  inch  by  inch 
from  Lake  Ontario, 

“ Notching  its  centuries  in  the  eternal  rocks,” 
so  here  the  forces  of  rain  and  storm  and  flood  have  tom 
their  way  through  the  everlasting  hills.  But  what  ages 
upon  ages  must  have  been  required  for  all  this ! What 
cycles  of  time,  measured  not  by  years,  must  have  passed, 
what  millions  of  tempests  must  have  poured  from  the 
angry  heavens,  and  what  millions  of  floods  must  have 
rushed  along  the  sides  of  these  mountains,  to  wear  a chan- 
nel miles  in  length  through  the  solid  granite  ! 

But  the  admission  of  this  does  not  overturn  the  cos- 
mogony of  Moses.’  By  no  means.  It  merely  shows  us 
that  the  words  of  the  Bible  have  a grander  meaning  than 
we  in  our  ignorance  had  dreamed.  We  need  only  to  en- 
large our  interpretations  to  the  vast  proportions  of  the 
revelation  which  we  are  trying  to  understand.  Now  we 
see  through  a glass  darkly ; by-and-by  we  may  see  that 
the  universe  itself  is  the  grandest  temple  of  the  Almighty. 

Whether  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation  agrees  in 
all  points  with  the  discoveries  of  geology,  is  a question  on 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


195 


which  men  of  science  are  the  most  competent  to  give  an 
opinion.  Some  assume  that  there  is  an  absolute  contra- 
diction, which  no  ingenuity  can  reconcile.  There  is  no 
objection  to  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  which  is  more 
often  urged,  or  with  greater  assurance,  than  that  from 
geology.  Some  are  so  confident  that  this  argument  can- 
not be  answered,  that  they  are  willing  to  stake  their  own 
unbelief  upon  it.  Says  Ingersoll  : “ If  it  shall  turn  out 
that  Moses  knew  more  about  geology  than  Humboldt, 
then  I will  admit  that  infidelity  must  become  speechless 
forever.”  Humboldt  is  certainly  a great  name  to  quote 
in  controversy,  though  perhaps  his  greatness  was  more 
in  his  general  survey  of  the  vast  realm  of  science,  than 
in  his  complete  mastery  of  any  one  department.  If, 
instead  of  sweeping  round  the  whole  horizon  of  the 
Kosmos,  we  limit  ourselves  to  the  one  point  in  hand,  we 
may  perhaps  assume,  without  trespassing  on  the  strict 
line  of  modesty,  that  we  have  in  America  a man  who, 
in  this  special  department  of  geology,  is  the  equal  of 
Humboldt,  Germans  themselves  being  judges — Professor 
James  D.  Dana  of  Yale  College.  “When  I was  in  Ger- 
many,” said  one  of  the  Faculty  of  Columbia  College, 
who  is  himself  well  known  abroad,  “all  the  men  of  sci- 
ence whom  I met  asked  me  about  ‘that  wonderfid  Dan-na’ 
(pronouncing  his  name  as  if  spelled  with  two  ns ),  whom 
they  regarded  as  the  first  scientific  man  in  America,  and 
as,  in  certain  departments,  second  to  no  man  living.”  This 
American  professor,  who  is  as  modest  as  he  is  truly  great, 
has  devoted  a large  portion  of  his  life,  and  he  is  now 
nearly  seventy  years  old,  to  the  special  study  of  geology, 
and  in  this  department  he  is  the  highest  living  authority, 
a place  that  would  be  conceded  to  him  nowhere  more 
fully  than  in  the  land  of  Humboldt.  Yet  it  is  he  who 
writes  : “ To  me  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  is  greatly 


196 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


illumined  by  the  revelations  "which  science  has  made.  I 
see  nothing  in  modern  developments  to  shake  my  faith 
in  its  inspired  announcements,  or  in  any  of  the  essential 
truths  taught  in  the  Bible.” 

In  this  testimony  other  eminent  geologists  fully  con- 
cur. Some  "who  have  made  a study  of  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis  in  the  light  of  science,  find  that  if  there  are 
apparent  divergences,  there  are  also  striking  coinci- 
dences, particularly  in  the  order  of  succession  of  animal 
and  vegetable  life.  So  marked  is  this,  that  some  men  of 
science,  "who  are  also  devout  believers  in  Revelation,  such 
as  Hugh  Miller  and  Principal  Dawson,  have  stoutly  main- 
tained that  they  are  in  perfect  harmony,  and  that  geol- 
ogy furnishes  the  strongest  confirmation  of  the  truth  of 
the  Mosaic  narrative.  Whether  they  are  correct  in  this, 
or  whether,  on  the  other  hand,  the  reconciliation  of  Sci- 
ence and  Revelation  may  not  require  us  to  modify  at 
some  points  our  interpretation  of  Scripture,  time  may 
render  clearer  than  it  is  now.  A sincere  lover  of  truth 
will  accept  light  from  every  source,  not  only  willingly,  but 
gratefully.  It  is  a poor  tribute  to  the  Bible  to  fear  that 
the  progress  of  knowledge  will  shake  its  authority.  I 
believe  too  firmly  in  Moses  to  have  any  apprehension  lest 
modern  science  should  push  him  from  his  throne.  Let 
the  explorers  and  the  discoverers  carry  their  researches 
as  far  as  they  will  (God  speed  them  in  their  work !)  : they 
do  but  bring  fresh  materials  wherewith  to  construct  the 
temple  of  truth.  If  we  do  not  at  first  see  how  the  old 
and  the  new  can  be  joined  together — how  they  are  but 
parts  of  one  great  system — it  is  because  we  see  only  from 
a few  points  and  angles.  Let  us  but  rise  high  enough 
above  the  world,  and  we  shall  see  it  as  one  complete, 
rounded  whole.  All  truth  is  in  harmony  with  itself. 
There  is  but  one  Creator,  who  has  revealed  Himself  both 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


197 


in  His  works  and  in  His  word  ; and  when  men  are  wiser 
than  they  are  now  ; when  they  have  climbed  higher,  and 
dug  deeper,  and  looked  abroad  more  widely  ; then  will  it 
bo  made  manifest  that  the  two  Revelations  are  in  har- 
mony ; that  there  is  a perfect  accord  between  that  which 
came  by  holy  men  of  old,  who  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  that  which  God  has  written  with  His  own 
finger  on  tables  of  stone. 

The  mountains  are  older  than  Moses,  but  there  is  One 
who  is  older  than  the  mountains,  to  whom  Moses  himself, 
perhaps  while  passing  through  these  very  mountains,  lifted 
up  heart  and  voice  in  that  majestic  psalm  : “Lord,  thou 
hast  been  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations.  Before 
the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting  thou  art  God.”  This  esplains  everything. 
Admit  the  Divine  existence,  and  all  mysteries  are  resolved. 
With  God  there  is  no  reckoning  of  time.  “A  thousand 
years  in  Thy  sight,”  continues  Moses  in  this  sublime  ode, 
“ are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  as  a watch  in 
the  night.”  Even  the  geological  epochs — though  they 
should  be  to  our  measurements  of  time  what  the  inter- 
planetary spaces  are  to  the  distances  on  our  globe — what 
are  they  to  Him  whose  existence  is  from  eternity  to  eter- 
nity, from  the  illimitable  past  to  the  illimitable  future  ? 

But  apart  from  any  geological  question,  these  moun- 
tains attract  the  eye  by  their  grandeur.  When  they 
were  upheaved  by  forces  from  beneath,  they  were  thrown 
into  the  wildest  forms.  Sometimes  they  stand  off  at  a 
distance  in  lonely  majesty,  and  sometimes  they  enclose  us 
in  a narrow'  pass.  In  such  a pass  we  rested  to-day  at 
noon,  by  a rock  shaped  somewhat  like  a chair,  which  is 
pointed  out  as  the  seat  of  Moses  when  he  tended  the 
flocks  of  Jethro,  so  that  as  we  took  our  places  in  it,  we 


198 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


were  literally  “sitting  in  Moses’  seat.”  Another  rock, 
with  an  altar-like  form,  is  said  to  have  been  the  stone  of 
sacrifice  on  which  Abraham  bound  Isaac.  Pursuing  our 
course  in  the  afternoon,  night  found  us  within  two  or 
three  hours  distance  of  the  Wady  Feiran.  We  camped  in  * 
full  view  of  Serbal,  which  presented  the  same  glorious 
sight  as  from  the  foot  of  the  Pass  of  the  Winds  the  night 
before  we  reached  Sinai. 

The  beauty  of  the  situation,  however,  did  not  prevent 
an  early  morning  start,  for  we  had  a long  march  before 
us.  For  hours  we  were  ascending,  catching  glimpses,  as 
we  look  back,  of  the  Sinai  range.  As  we  mounted  upward, 
the  surrounding  summits  sank;  lower,  and  we  seemed  to 
be  emerging  from  the  mountains.  Then  we  crossed  what 
in  America  would  be  called  a divide,  and  for  miles  we 
descended  a rugged,  narrow  pass,  which  brought  us  into 
another  amphitheatre  of  mountains,  where  nature  did  not 
repeat  herself,  but  varied  the  scene  with  new  forms  of 
splendor.  Some  of  the  views  surpassed  all  description. 
There  were  mountains  of  red  granite,  that  matchless 
stone  out  of  which — because  of  its  hardness,  united  with  a 
fine  grain,  which  takes  the  smoothest  polish,  and  presents 
the  most  beautiful  surface — have  been  chiselled  all  the 
obelisks  of  Egypt  ; and  mountains  of  porphyry,  of  all 
colors  from  cream  to  black.  In  other  instances  granite 
was  veined  with  porphyry  and  diorite,  as  if,  when  the 
mountains  were  upheaved,  here  and  there  a ridge  or  dome 
had  parted  under  the  mighty  pressure  from  beneath,  and 
through  the  rents  and  fissures  thus  made  shot  up  streams 
from  the  boiling  mass  in  the  heart  of  the  earth.  The 
mingling  of  these  elements  produced  a strange  mingling 
of  colors.  The  very  ground  under  our  feet  Was  rich  with 
color,  for  here  and  there  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  passing 
over  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  city,  some  unknown  Babylon 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


199 


or  Nineveh,  so  thickly  was  the  plain  strewn  with  what 
looked  like  bricks,  yet  there  was  not  a brick  among  them, 
but  only  broken  pieces  of  red  stone  which  had  crumbled 
from  tlio  mountain  sides.  Now  and  then  we  would  stop 
our  camels  to  count  the  number  of  colors,  in  which  we 
could  easily  distinguish  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow.  The 
most  prominent  of  these  were  sober  colors — dark  brown, 
and  red,  and  yellow,  and  olive  green — the  very  shades  which 
it  is  the  fashion  of  the  day  to  use  in  the  decoration  of  our 
interiors.  I leave  to  painters  to  imagine  the  effect  of 
these  dark,  rich  colors  thrown  broadcast  upon  the  moun- 
tains! The  coldest  and  dullest  nature  must  catch  some 
glow  and  inspiration  in  passing  through  gorges  where  the 
cliffs  on  either  hand  are  like  battlements  of  walled  cities, 
and  the  loftier  peaks  like  castle  towers,  from  which  are 
hung  out  banners  in  purple  and  gold.  How  can  a trav- 
eller be  unmoved  who 

“ By  this  vision  splendid 
Is  on  his  way  attended, 

Until  at  length  he  sees  it  fade  away, 

And  melt  into  the  light  of  common  day  ” ? 

The  next  morning  we  said  good-bye  to  granite.  The 
great  mountain  range  which  covers  all  the  lower  part  of 
the  Peninsula  of  Sinai,  here  sinks  down  like  a wave  in  the 
sea,  and  is  seen  no  more.  It  is  completely  submerged,  not 
reappearing  till  it  lifts  up  its  head  again  in  the  mountains 
of  the  Caucasus,  while  over  it  here  Hows  the  dark  red 
sandstone.  New  mountains  come  into  view,  which  are 
often  pyramidal  in  form,  with  strata  as  regular  as  the  lay- 
ers of  the  Great  Pyramid,  looking  as  if  they  might  have 
been  piled  up  by  some  race  of  Titans  before  man  came 
upon  the  earth.  The  change  of  the  geological  formation 
is  marked  by  a complete  change  of  vegetation.  In  the 
soft  sand  little  daises  begin  to  put  up  their  white  heads. 


200 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


and  now  and  then  comes  the  note  of  a bird.  Dear  lit- 
tle songsters  of  the  air,  never  did  their  music  sound  so 
sweet. 

The  event  of  the  day  was  reaching  Surabit  el  Khadim, 
a mountain  of  striking  natural  form  as  well  as  historical 
interest,  in  which  the  range  of  sandstone  ends,  and  which 
served  in  the  early  days  as  a site  both  for  a fortress  and 
a temple.  We  dismounted  from  our  camels,  and  under 
the  escort  of  Arab  guides,  first  descended  a rough  pass,  or 
glen,  on  the  other  side  of  which  rose  an  almost  perpendic- 
ular wall  of  rock  seven  hundred  feet  high.  We  clambered 
up  the  precipice,  turning  hither  and  thither  to  get  a foot- 
ing on  a narrow  ledge,  and  often  obliged  to  stretch  out  a 
hand  to  our  nimble  and  sure-footed  companions,  till  we 
reached  the  top,  and  found  ourselves  on  a broad  plateau, 
where  are  traces  of  copper  mines  that  were  worked  in  the 
times  of  the  Pharaohs  : how  far  back  in  the  list  of  Egyptian 
dynasties,  we  cannot  tell.  But  the  mountain  was  probably 
a place  of  worship  long  before  it  was  pierced  by  mineral 
excavations,  if  it  be  true  that  the  temple,  whose  remains 
we  find  here  now,  was  standing  four  hundred  years  before 
the  time  of  Abraham  ! This  would  seem  to  justify  the 
assertion  that  it  is  the  oldest  temple  in  the  world.  Like 
the  priests  of  Baal,  those  of  Egypt  chose  high  places  for 
their  worship.  This  point  commands  a most  extensive 
view.  To  the  south  rise  the  peaks  of  Serbal,  so  that  the 
priests,  while  celebrating  their  worship  here,  could  see 
in  the  distance  the  smoke  of  sacrifices  from  the  altars  of 
Baal.  Centuries  after  this,  in  the  time  of  Bameses  XL, 
whose  daughter  took  Moses  out  of  the  bulrushes,  it  is  said 
to  have  been  occupied  as  a military  station,  for  which  it 
had  an  obvious  fitness,  as  it  commanded  an  outlook  over 
a large  part  of  the  Peninsula.  It  is  even  urged  that  the 
Israelites,  in  the  march  to  Sinai,  probably  avoided  this 


PASSING  THROUGH  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


201 


route,  lest  they  should  he  stopped  by  the  Egyptian  gar- 
rison. 

The  elevated  point  of  view  was  of  service  to  us,  as  it 
gave  us  a wide  sweep  of  the  country,  and  enabled  us  to 
outline  the  two  routes  before  us,  for  we  had  come  to  the 
parting  of  the  ways.  It  was  now  the  third  day  from  the 
Convent,  and  we  had  accomplished  half  the  return  journey 
to  Suez.  If  the  reader  will  look  at  the  map,  he  will  see 
that  Surabit  el  Khadim  is  at  an  angle,  from  which  one 
route  turns  almost  directly  west.  By  following  this,  we 
might  have  reached  Suez  by  Saturday  night. 

But  there  was  another  route  which  turned  to  the  north- 
east, which  did  not  seem  very  attractive,  as  it  was  at  once 
longer,  more  difficult  and  more  dangerous,  and  of  which 
we  were  forewarned  that  there  was  absolutely  nothing 
to  see ! Murray  says  of  it  : “ The  route  to  Palestine  by 
way  of  Nuklil  presents  no  object  of  interest  to  the  ordi- 
nary traveller.  He  had  much  better  return  to  Suez,  and 
go  thence,  via  Port  Said  and  the  sea,  to  Jaffa.” 

No  doubt  all  this  was  tine.  Yet  to  an  adventurous 
traveller  there  is  sometimes  an  interest  in  the  very  want  of 
interest — in  exploring  what  is  most  desolate  and  dreary. 
Opposite  to  us  — perhaps  eight  or  ten  miles  distant — 
rose  a chain  of  mountains,  that  seemed  islanded  in  the 
desert,  a broad  belt  of  sand  sweeping  round  it,  like 
an  arm  of  the  sea.  How  the  white  cliffs  glared  in  the 
noonday ! What  a prospect  of  weariness  in  climbing 
those  heights  under  the  blazing  sun!  And  once  there, 
what  awaited  us  beyond  ? Long  marches  over  the  burning 
sand ! Fatigue  perhaps  to  exhaustion,  and  weariness  to 
fainting ! Such  was  the  prospect.  WT as  it  strange  if  one 
should  hesitate  a little  before  venturing  into  the  unknown  ? 
Well ! if  we  repented  of  our  rash  vow,  made  when  we  de- 
parted from  Sinai  ; if  we  shrank  from  the  fatigues  and 


202 


LEAVING  SINAI. 


exposures  and  perils  ; there  was  still  a way  of  escape  ; it 
was  not  too  late  to  draw  back  ; the  broad  plain  beneath 
us  that  stretched  westward,  opened  an  easy  passage  to  the 
coast.  Which  way  should  we  choose  ? The  Doctor  turned 
to  me  to  decide.  One  way  was  ease  and  safety  and  speedy 
deliverance  ; in  the  other  was  uncertainty  and  danger. 
Yet  there  was  a temptation  in  the  very  idea  of  plunging 
into  that  which  was  comparatively  untravelled.  From 
yonder  heights  stretched  out  the  Great  and  Terrible  Wil- 
derness, which  seemed  to  beckon  us  by  its  very  desola- 
tion. There  was  a fascination  in  the  illimitable  desert, 
in  its  vagueness,  vastness,  and  mystery.  It  did  not  take 
me  long  to  decide  : one  sweep  of  the  eye  round  the 
horizon,  and  we  clambered  down  the  rocks,  mounted 
our  camels,  and  turned  their  heads  towards  the  way  of 
the  Wilderness. 


CHAPTEB  XY. 


TIIE  GREAT  AND  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 

Our  marches  bring  great  changes  in  a single  day. 
Only  this  morning  we  said  good-bye  to  the  red  granite, 
and  this  afternoon  we  take  leave  of  the  old  red  sand- 
stone. It  may  seem  a welcome  change  to  turn  our  backs 
on  a wilderness  of  rocky  defiles.  But  one  who  has  been 
riding  for  days  through  these  wild  passes,  observing  the 
fantastic  forms  of  the  cliffs  and  crags  on  either  side,  and 
their  infinite  variety  of  color,  cannot  without  a regret  turn 
away  from  these  dark,  sombre  mountains.  And  to  come 
down  from  all  this  to  the  desert,  is  a change  which  involves 
a double  descent,  a descent  from  the  mountain  to  the  plain, 
and  from  the  richest  colors  to  the  perpetual  glare  of  the 
naked  limestone  ! It  is  a change  from  boundless  variety 
to  boundless  monotony. 

But  there  are  always  compensations  in  nature,  by  which 
she  relieves  her  bleakest  and  most  barren  wastes.  Scarcely 
had  we  descended  into  the  plain  which  separates  the  great 
mountain  region  of  the  Peninsula  from  the  Desert  of  the 
Wandering,  before  we  observed  new  grasses  and  flowers 
peering  up  in  the  sand.  A new  geological  formation  had 
brought  a new  vegetation,  and  Dr.  Post  found  fresh  speci- 
mens for  his  collection  of  the  Flora  of  the  Desert.  Mo- 
notonous and  tiresome  as  it  was,  as  we  kept  on  our  weary 
march  all  the  afternoon,  yet  as  the  wide  plain  opened  a 
view  to  the  west,  we  saw  the  sun  setting  over  the  Egyptian 
mountains  on  the  other  side  of  the  Ked  Sea.  Meanwhile 


204 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


the  great  wall  before  us  rose  higher  as  we  advanced  across 
the  plain,  and  even  its  white,  bare  cliffs  took  on  a sudden 
splendor  as  the  setting  sun  tinged  them  with  the  glow  of 
departing  day. 

And  desolate  as  the  region  is,  it  derives  interest  from 
the  journeyings  of  the  children  of  Israel.  As  they  moved 
northward  from  Sinai,  they  must  have  crossed  this  plain, 
and  scaled  that  mountain  range,  which  would  have  been 
an  insurmountable  bander  if  it  had  been  held  by  an  op- 
posing force  : for  it  is  a thousand  feet  in  height,  and  so 
steep  that,  as  we  look  up  from  below,  the  cliffs  are  like  the 
battlements  of  a walled  city.  There  are  but  four  passes 
by  which  they  can  be  ascended.  We  directed  oui-  course 
to  the  Pass  of  Er  Eakineh,  and  when  we  drew  near  to  the 
foot  of  the  hills,  we  pitched  our  tents,  as  a prudent  soldier 
sometimes  camps  for  the  night  in  full  view  of  a fortress 
wliich  he  is  to  attack  on  the  morrow.  Here  we  lay  down, 
as  it  were,  “ on  our  arms,”  to  be  ready  to  spring  up  at  the 
tap  of  the  drum.  The  morning  brought  us  its  new  experi- 
ences, which,  as  we  shall  see,  were  not  without  a charm  of 
their  own. 

The  most  picturesque  sight  on  the  desert  is  that  of  a 
caravan  in  motion — a long  line  of  camels,  following  one  an- 
other in  single  file,  moving  slowly  but  steadily  across  the 
waste,  and  disappearing  on  the  horizon.  The  picturesque- 
ness is  increased  when,  as  this  morning,  the  camel-line 
moves  up  a height  which  brings  it  into  bolder  relief.  As 
our  camp  was  but  a short  distance  from  the  mountains, 
we  reached  them  at  sunrise,  and  then  took  a foot-path, 
which,  as  it  led  directly  up  the  steep,  took  us  to  the  top  in 
a couple  of  hours  ; while  the  camels,  as  they  carried  heavy 
loads,  were  obliged  to  take  a more  circuitous  route,  and 
were  an  hour  longer  in  making  the  ascent.  But  this  slow 
movement  gave  us  one  of  the  most  striking  scenes  we  had 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


205 


had  on  the  desert,  as  they  went  zigzag  along  the  breast  of 
the  mountains,  coming  at  every  turn  into  distinct  outline 
against  the  sky.  When  we  reached  the  top,  we  sat  down 
on  a pile  of  rocks,  and  looked  back  over  the  plain  to  the 
sacred  mountains,  which  we  knew  we  should  never  see 
again.  From  this  time  we  could  no  longer  get  a view  even 
on  the  distant  horizon,  but  we  had  hoped  this  morning,  as 
the  sun  rose,  we  might  have  vouchsafed  to  us  one  more 
last  look.  There  indeed  was  Serbal,  with  its  peaks  clear 
against  the  sky,  and  farther  down  was  Sinai,  but  wrapped 
in  cloud,  as  when  the  Lord  came  down  upon  its  summit ; 
and  we  saw  it  no  more.  This  was  a real  disappointment. 
It  was  with  a feeling  as  if  the  face  of  the  Lord  were  hid- 
den from  us,  that  we  uncovered  our  heads,  and  bade  fare- 
well to  Sinai  forever. 

But  below  us  the  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  sand,  which 
was  of  dazzling  whiteness,  and  glistened  like  the  sea. 
Clouds  were  flying  over  the  sky,  casting  great  shadows 
upon  the  plain.  From  scenes  like  this  come  those  images, 
so  often  used  in  the  Bible,  of  shifting  sand  and  drifting 
clouds,  as  emblems  of  our  transient  human  existence. 

At  last  the  camels  reached  us,  and  we  launched  on  our 
new  voyage.  As  we  seated  ourselves  in  the  saddle,  and 
cast  our  eyes  round  the  horizon,  the  character  of  the  coun- 
try was  at  once  apparent.  It  is  a vast  plateau,  or  table- 
land, in  general  outline  not  unlike  one  of  the  steppes  of 
Asia.  It  is  not  however  an  unbroken  plain,  but  crossed  by 
mountain  ranges,  not  so  grand  as  those  of  the  lower  part 
of  the  Peninsula,  but  still  of  considerable  height,  between 
which  are  broad  spaces  of  desert  furrowed  by  water  courses. 
Scarcely  had  we  left  the  edge  of  the  cliff  before  we  drop- 
ped down  into  one  of  the  gullies  by  which  this  vast  tract 
is  seamed  and  scarred,  and  kept  moving  on  from  one  to 
another,  as  we  had  traversed  a succession  of  wadies  in 


206 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


going  to  Sinai.  Sometimes  we  rose  on  an  elevation,  from 
which  we  took  in  a more  extensive  view,  and  saw  moun- 
tains in  the  distance.  These  smaller  hollows  worn  by 
streams,  like  the  affluents  of  a river,  finally  merge  into  the 
Wady  el  Arisli  (which  we  entered  in  the  afternoon),  which  ■ 
is  to  the  Desert  of  the  Wandering  what  the  Wady  es 
Scheikh  is  among  the  mountains  of  granite  and  sandstone, 
and  which  bears  the  great  name  of  the  Diver  of  Egypt — 
a term  which,  as  used  in  the  Bible,  does  not  designate  the 
Nile,  but  this  mighty  wady,  which  keeps  its  course  to  the 
sea,  coming  out  near  Gaza,  and  forming  the  boundary  be- 
tween Egypt  and  Palestine. 

Qf  course  the  chief  interest  of  this  desolate  region  is 
that  it  is  none  other  than  the  Great  and  Terrible  Wilder- 
ness, in  which  the  Israelites  passed  all  but  three  of  their 
forty  years  of  wandering.  It  has  always  been  the  tradi- 
tion, that  the  march  from  Egypt  to  Sinai  took  about  fifty 
days  ; and  scholars  reckon  the  time  of  the  encampment 
in  the  region  of  Sinai  at  one  year,  lacking  a few  days  ; 
when  the  host  of  Israel  moved  northward,  and  crossing 
the  sandy  belt  which  we  passed  over  yesterday,  climbed 
into  this  great  upland.  When  they  entered  it,  they  could 
not  have  intended  to  remain  there,  for  Moses  would  not 
have  chosen  such  a desolate  region  for  a long  encamp- 
ment. They  took  it  on  the  march  to  the  land  promised 
to  their  fathers,  and  advanced  nearly  through  it,  when 
they  were  driven  back  by  the  fierce  tribes  that  inhab- 
ited the  country.  Thus  repulsed,  they  withdrew  and 
pitched  their  tents  in  the  wilderness,  moving  from  place  to 
place,  but  never  crossing  its  boundary  for  more  than  thirty- 
seven  years,  when  they  turned  south  to  the  head  of  the 
Gulf  of  Akaba,  and  passing  round  the  mountains,  came  up 
through  Moab,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Dead  Sea,  to  Nebo, 
where  Moses  died,  and  from  which  Joshua,  shortly  after, 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


207 


led  the  tribes  across  the  Jordan.  My  friend,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Hitchcock  of  New  York,  President  of  the  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  has  kindly  furnished  the  following  table 
of  the  time  of  the  Israelites  in  their  successive  jour- 
neyings  : 

Tears.  Months.  Days. 


From  Egypt  to  Sinai — 1 16 

At  Sinai — 11  20 

ToKadesli — 4 10 

In  the  Desert  of  tho  Wandering  ...  37  6 — 

From  Kadesh  to  Moab — 10  — 

On  the  plains  of  Moab — 2 — 


In  all,  39  years,  11  months,  and  16  days. 

This  long  desert  life  of  the  Israelites  raises  the  ques- 
tion, often  suggested  before,  but  never  so  pressing  as  now, 
as  to  the  means  of  their  subsistence.  How  could  two 
millions  and  a half  of  people  find  bread  in  the  wilderness 
to  keep  them  alive  for  thirty-seven  years  ? Leaving  for 
the  moment  the  question  of  the  miraculous  supply  of 
food,  the  problem  may  perhaps  be  solved  in  part  by  con- 
sidering both  the  mode  of  life  of  the  Israelites  and  the 
greater  fertility  of  the  country  at  the  time  of  the  Exodus  in 
comparison  with  what  it  is  to-day.  The  children  of  Israel 
were  not  unaccustomed  to  the  desert.  The  patriarchs  lived 
on  it  before  they  went  down  into  Egypt.  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  were  “ dwellers  in  tabernacles,”  that  is,  in  tents. 
They  were  nomads  as  truly  as  the  Bedaween  of  the  pres- 
ent day.  They  lived  by  their  flocks  and  herds,  moving 
from  place  to  place,  wherever  they  could  find  pasturage. 
When  Joseph’s  brethren  stood  before  Phai'aoli,  and  he 
asked  them  of  their  occupation,  they  said  “ Thy  seiwants 
are  shepherds.”  For  that  reason  he  appointed  them 
their  place  of  abode  not  in  Memphis,  the  capital,  nor  in 
the  other  cities  of  Egypt,  but  in  the  land  of  Goshen, 
where  they  could  follow  their  accustomed  occupation. 


208 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


They  lived  in  Goshen,  as  they  had  lived  on  the  desert, 
with  their  flocks  of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle  ; and  so 
when  they  came  to  go  up  out  of  Egypt,  it  was  the  dictate 
of  self-preservation  to  take  their  flocks  and  herds  with 
them  as  their  means  of  subsistence.  For  them  to  go  out 
into  the  wilderness  did  not  involve  the  same  hardship  as 
it  would  have  been  for  the  Egyptians,  for  they  only  went 
back  to  the  mode  of  life  of  their  fathers.  They  pitched 
their  tents  on  the  desert,  and  once  more  dwelt  in  taber- 
nacles, as  the  patriarchs  had  done  before  them.  The 
Exodus  for  them  was  simply  going  back  to  their  old, 
wandering  life. 

But  how  was  subsistence  found  for  their  flocks  and 
herds  ? This  can  only  be  explained  by  supposing  that 
the  vegetation  was  much  more  abundant  then  than  now, 
of  which  there  is  ample  proof.  In  the  wadies  Avhich  we 
passed  through  in  going  to  Sinai,  there  were  signs  that 
at  one  period  the  mountains,  if  not  covered  with  forests, 
yet  had  by  no  means  the  bare  look  which  they  now  have  ; 
while  the  wadies,  wThich  are  burnt  and  dry,  may  have 
been  as  green  as  the  deep  valleys  that  one  finds  nestled 
in  the  recesses  of  the  Alps.  All  writers  bear  witness  to 
the  constant  and  suicidal  practice  which  has  been  going 
on  for  centuries  among  the  Arabs,  of  denuding  the  moun- 
tains, not  only  of  trees  but  of  brushwood,  for  their  camp- 
fires and  to  bum  for  charcoal.  This  of  course  has  caused 
the  little  mountain  springs  to  dry  up,  and  the  vegetation 
to  become  more  scanty.  But  still  with  all  that  man  has 
done  to  destroy  vegetation,  there  is  enough  in  the  wadies 
and  on  the  hillsides  to  support  flocks  of  goats  ; and  as 
wTe  advanced  northward,  we  found  large  herds  of  camels 
spread  over  the  hills.  In  the  wilderness  it  is  not  probable 
that  the  Israelites  were  all  in  one  camp.  They  may  have 
been  spread  over  a tract  as  large  as  an  English  county, 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


209 


in  which  were  a hundred  spots  that  could  yield  a tempo- 
rary sustenance  for  their  flocks  and  herds.  But  with  all 
these  alleviations  of  their  lot,  still  the  Israelites  found  this 
waste  over  which  we  are  now  passing,  a Great  and  Terrible 
Wilderness.  A country  in  which  they  could  find  no  abid- 
ing place — where  they  were  kept  moving  from  one  pasture 
ground  to  another,  eating  up  the  land  before  them,  and 
leaving  a desolate  wilderness  behind  them  ; in  constant 
danger,  if  left  to  themselves,  of  perishing  by  famine  or  by 
pestilence — was  not  a country  through  which  millions  of 
people  could  make  their  way  unguided  and  alone.  I repeat 
what  I have  said  before,  that  the  more  I see  of  the  desert 
the  more  the  miracle  of  the  Exodus  grows  upon  me.  How 
the  Israelites  lived  through  it,  is  a mystery  which  no  re- 
sources of  their  own  can  explain,  without  the  help  of 
Him  who  was  their  Guide  and  Protector.  In  reading 
the  story  of  their  wanderings,  we  wonder  not  that  they 
often  fainted,  and  that  their  hearts  died  within  them. 
Forty  years!  that  is  more  than  the  lifetime  of  a gener- 
ation. In  that  time  old  men  died,  and  young  men  grew 
old  ; wives  and  children  were  buried  in  the  sands  of  the 
desert.  What  a trial  for  the  wisdom  and  the  firmness 
of  their  great  leader  to  keep  any  control  of  millions  of 
people,  who  were  at  times  almost  starving,  and  often  in 
a state  of  mutiny ! Moses  himself  was  sometimes  ready 
to  despair  ; but  he  withdrew  into  the  wilderness,  and  alone 
he  knelt  upon  the  rocks  or  sands,  and  cried  to  Heaven  for 
help,  and  then  returned,  with  new  courage  in  his  heart,  to 
inspire  the  faint  and  strengthen  the  weak,  and  to  lead  them 
on,  until  at  last  he  brought  them  to  the  Promised  Land. 

We  camped  in  the  Wady  el  Arisli.  It  was  a bitter 
night.  The  wind  blew  so  that  we  feared  it  would  blow 
down  our  tents,  and  the  men  had  to  keep  a sharp  lookout, 
driving  in  the  tent-pegs  to  hold  them  fast.  At  the  same 


210 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


time  the  temperature  was  almost  freezing.  The  same  lime- 
stone surface  which  reflects  the  sun  by  day,  radiates  the 
heat  rapidly  as  soon  as  the  sun  goes  down  ; so  that  while 
the  days  are  very  hot,  the  nights  are  very  cold.  We  have 
to  wrap  ourselves  up  warmly,  piling  blankets  and  over- 
coats upon  our  camp-beds,  and  then  are  sometimes  almost 
frozen.  Yet  while  it  required  our  utmost  efforts,  even 
under  shelter,  to  keep  our  blood  stirring,  the  Arabs  slept 
in  the  open  air,  with  only  their  thin  covering,  and  such 
warmth  as  they  might  get  from  their  camp-fires. 

The  nest  morning  we  had  a new  experience.  After 
weeks  of  unclouded  sky  in  Egypt  and  on  the  desert,  it  was 
a relief  to  see  signs  of  rain.  Dark  clouds  gathered  in  the 
west.  This  we  took  to  indicate  our  approach  to  the  sea. 
It  was  probable  that  there  had  been  a great  storm  on  the 
Mediterranean,  the  skills  of  which  reached  us,  although 
we  were  still  at  a distance  of  perhaps  a hundred  miles. 
We  had  several  light  showers,  which  threatened  a bad  day 
for  marching  ; yet  we  were  so  anxious  to  press  on  that  we 
struck  our  tents  and  started,  keeping  along  the  Wady  el 
Arisli,  which  we  left  only  to  enter  on  a broad  plain  covered 
with  flint  stones,  which  continued,  with  occasional  inter- 
vals, perhaps  twenty  miles.  This  flinty  desert  is  quite  dif- 
ferent from  the  sandy  desert  ; its  surface  is  as  hard  as  a 
stone,  and  the  tracks  across  it  seem  as  if  they  had  been 
worn  by  the  footsteps  of  caravans  that  had  passed  along 
the  same  line  for  generations. 

Notwithstanding  the  occasional  showers,  we  escaped 
pretty  well  in  the  morning  ; but  in  the  afternoon  the 
clouds  again  appeared,  yet  held  off  for  a time,  clinging 
to  a chain  of  mountains  in  the  west,  and  we  thought  we 
should  run  the  gauntlet  in  safety.  But  suddenly,  as  if 
they  espied  the  fugitives  on  the  plain,  they  advanced 
directly  towards  us.  “ Now  we  are  in  for  it ! ” said  the 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


211 


Doctor.  I dismounted,  preferring  to  meet  the  enemy  on 
foot.  Soon  it  came.  The  camels  turned  their  heads  to 
escape  the  fury  of  the  tempest.  It  required  all  the  shout- 
ing of  their  drivers  to  keep  their  heads  to  the  storm.  Thus 
we  struggled  on.  After  an  horn-  the  clouds  broke  away, 
the  sun  came  out,  a rainbow  spanned  the  sky,  and  we 
rode  on  in  triumph.  And  now  we  had  time  to  admire  the 
strange  formation  of  rocks.  These  limestone  ranges  some- 
times stretch  for  miles,  suggesting  the  familiar  image  of 
city  walls  ; and  as  they  are  in  places  much  broken,  we  see 
cropping  up,  again  and  again,  the  outline  of  old  castles 
and  towers.  Here  and  there  upon  the  plain  stands  a soli- 
tary mound,  so  like  a pyramid  that  one  can  hardly  believe 
it  has  not  been  fashioned  by  human  hands. 

We  halted  on  the  top  of  a hill,  in  a hollow  ojDeu  only 
to  the  sky.  All  went  to  work  to  get  the  camp  ready, 
the  Doctor  driving  the  tent-pegs,  and  bringing  stones  to 
keep  them  fast,  lest  we  should  have  such  a. blow  as  we  had 
had  the  night  before.  In  half  an  hour  the  teuts  were  up, 
and  all  was  snug.  Better  still,  our  men  found  a place 
where  they  were  protected  from  the  wind  by  rocks,  and 
here  they  were  collected  round  their  fires,  with  then  cam- 
els beside  them.  There  were  four  camp-fires,  for  we  had 
had  an  addition  to  om  camp  since  we  left  Sinai,  in  a small 
party  of  Bedaween,  who  were  bound  to  Gaza  to  bring  back 
grain  for  the  Convent.  As  it  was  twelve  days  march,  and 
led  through  tribes  that  might  help  themselves  to  what- 
ever the  camels  carried,  they  asked  to  accompany  us,  that 
they  might  be  under  our  protection.  We  had  no  objec- 
tion, for  in  case  of  attack  their  swords  and  guns  would  be 
a welcome  addition  to  ours,  and  we  could  combine  oux 
forces  for  the  common  defence. 

I wonder  if  I can  make  a picture  of  the  scene  around 
our  camp-fires,  as  I saw  it  that  evening. 


212 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


Tlie  camp-fire  is  the  delight  of  the  Bedaween.  No 
sooner  are  our  tents  pitched,  and  our  wants  attended  to, 
and  the  camels  fed,  than  the  men  scatter  about,  pulling  up 
little  shrubs  and  brushwood  that  grow  on  the  desert,  which 
make  a quick  fire.  These  they  pile  on  until  the  ground  is 
thoroughly  heated,  and  they  have  a glowing  bed  of  coals. 
Meanwhile  one  of  the  Arabs  pom's  out  of  a sack  perhaps 
a peck  of  meal  upon  a piece  of  coarse  cloth,  much  the 
worse  for  wear,  and  adding  a little  water  and  salt,  kneads 
it  into  a dough,  which,  when  of  the  proper  consistency, 
is  flattened  out  like  a huge  pancake,  looking  very  much 
like  the  chipatties  in  India.  Then  the  bed  of  coals  is  raked 
open,  and  the  cake  laid  carefully  upon  it,  and  the  glowing 
ashes  raked  over  it.  While  this  is  going  on,  observe  the 
faces  of  the  Arabs  gathered  round  the  fire  ! Every  step  of 
the  process  is  watched  with  eager  interest.  How  their  eyes 
glisten  in  the  firelight ! Talk  of  a dinner  prepared  by  a 
French  cook  : it  is  nothing  to  the  feast  of  these  children 
of  the  desert,  to  which  they  come  with  appetites  sharpened 
by  hunger.  As  I watch  them  night  after  night,  I think 
how  much  more  they  enjoy  their  supper  than  we  do  ours, 
since  they  have  the  pleasure  of  preparing  it  as  well  as  of 
eating  it.  We,  who  partake  of  our  meals  only  when  they 
are  placed  before  us,  do  not  know  the  exquisite  delight  of 
those  who  enjoy  a feast  beforehand  by  witnessing  its  prep- 
aration. This  is  one  of  the  things  which  give  so  keen  a 
zest  to  gypsy  life,  and  which  civilized  folk  try  to  imitate 
in  a poor  way  by  getting  up  a picnic.  They  find  that  the 
same  food  tastes  much  better  when  a whole  party  are  sit- 
ting on  the  grass  under  a tree,  than  if  it- were  served  on  a 
table.  This  free  outdoor  life  our  Arabs  have  every  day, 
and  their  evening  meal  is  one  prolonged  enjoyment  from 
the  time  the  camp-fire  is  blazing.  We,  sitting  in  our  tent, 
have  a regular  dinner,  with  soup  and  three  courses  of  meat 


TIIE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


213 


and  vegetables,  and  a dessert  of  oranges  and  figs  and 
almonds  and  raisins,  winding  up  with  a delicious  cup  of 
coffee.  This  is  very  well  ; but,  after  all,  we  only  get  one 
meal,  while  our  poor  fellows,  whom  we  pity  so,  feast  all 
the  time  that  the  supper  is  preparing,  and  devour  it  a 
hundred  times  with  their  eyes  before  they  take  it  into 
their  mouths.  By-and-by  the  heap  of  coals  is  opened,  and 
the  cake  turned  over.  A few  minutes  more,  and  the  cook- 
ing is  complete.  What  would  Charles  Lamb,  who  wrote 
with  such  delicious  humor  of  the  enjoyment  in  the  cooking 
as  well  as  the  eating  of  roast  pig,  say  to  this  feast  of  the 
desert?  When  the  loaf  comes  out,  it  is  certainly  well 
done,  though  thickly  crusted  with  ashes.  However,  they 
do  not  mind  that ; but  dusting  it  off  with  an  old  rag, 
proceed  to  break  it  up  into  a pot  with  some  greasy  mix- 
ture, making  the  whole  a thick  porridge.  Thus  the  meal 
is  prepared,  and  now  the  circle  gathers  round  it,  when  a 
boy  comes  along  with  a water-skin,  pouring  a little  on  the 
fingers  of  all  in  the  group,  who  then  proceed,  one  after  the 
other,  to  dip  their  hands  in  the  dish.  How  their  faces 
shine  as  they  take  the  savory  mess ! A lien  they  have 
scraped  the  pot  with  their  fingers  till  not  a thimbleful 
remains,  then  comes  the  crown  of  the  feast — what  is  better 
to  them  than  any  dessert — the  pipe ! They  bring  out 
their  chibouques,  and  fill  them,  and  +ake  long,  long  drafts 
— deep  inhalations.  If  any  one  is  so  unfortunate  as  not  to 
have  a pipe,  or  tobacco  to  fill  it,  his  neighbor,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  Oriental  hospitality,  takes  his  own  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  and  puts  it  into  the  mouth  of  his  brother,  and  thus 
they  rejoice  together.  All  these  things  combined  make  a 
feast  which  an  epicure  might  envy. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Then  begins  the  flow  of  conversa- 
tion, which  is  the  delight  of  the  Bedaween,  as  of  more 
civilized  peoples.  The  camp-fire  on  the  desert  is  what  the 


214 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


club  is  in  a city  : it  is  the  place  of  the  conversazione,  where 
the  Arabs  tell  all  the  gossip  of  the  camp  or  the  tribe,  and 
discuss  the  matters  of  their  little  world  with  as  much 
eagerness  as  the  politics  of  England  are  discussed  in  the 
clubs  of  London.  The  amusement  which  Frenchmen 
would  seek  in  a theatre,  these  simple  children  of  the 
desert  find  in  telling  stories,  which  are  often  received  with 
shouts  of  laughter,  and  which  not  seldom  are  continued 
far  into  the  night.  At  length  the  laughter  ceases,  the  fires 
grow  dim,  and  the  Arab 

“ Wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch  about  him,” 

(which  consists  of  his  one  miserable  garment) 

“And  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams.” 

“ Dreams  ” ! Does  the  Bedawee  ever  dream  ? Yes  in- 
deed : why  should  he  not  dream?  All  the  riches  he  pos- 
sesses he  in  the  land  of  dreams.  Sleeping  on  the  desert, 
under  the  sky,  he  sees  visions  and  dreams  dreams  of  all 
which  makes  the  delight  of  an  Arab’s  existence.  That 
poor  fellow  who  lies  there  with  his  head  in  the  sand,  is 
dreaming  now  of  the  Oasis  of  Eeiran,  of  the  running  brook 
and  the  palms  that  bend  over  it,  and  of  his  companions 
who  watch  the  flocks  of  black  goats  on  the  mountain  side. 
But  whatever  his  dreams,  they  do  not  interrupt  his  deep, 
sound  slumber.  That  group  round  the  smouldering  camp- 
fire lie  motionless  as  if  in  death,  yet  are  ready  to  spring 
up  at  the  first  streak  of  dawn. 

As  the  next  day  was  our  sixth  since  we  left  Mount 
Sinai,  and  we  wished  to  be  at  Nukhl  for  our  camp  over 
Sunday,  and  feared  lest  we  might  be  delayed  by  rain,  we 
started  at  an  early  hour,  so  early  indeed  that  a little  after 
noon  we  reached  the  great  plain,  at  the  farther  end  of 
which  we  descried  the  fort.  Nukhl  is  a notable  place  on 
the  desert,  as  it  is  the  chief  station  on  the  route  of  pilgrim- 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


215 


age  from  Cairo  to  Mecca,  being  midway  between  the  Gulfs 
of  Suez  and  Akaba.  Here  once  in  the  year  is  witnessed 
the  most  extraordinary  spectacle  in  the  world  : a train  of 
camels  that  seems  almost  endless  comes  up  out  of  the 
western  horizon,  and  moves  slowly  to  the  east.  Yast 
encampments  are  pitched  around  the  fort,  which  was  built 
for  this  express  purpose,  to  give  protection  to  the  pilgrims, 
and  to  furnish  food  and  water  to  them  and  to  their  camels. 
Fifty  Egyptian  soldiers  are  quartered  here — some  of  them 
old  soldiers  of  Ibrahim  Pasha — to  furnish  any  protection 
which  is  needed,  while  their  families  live  in  a little  cluster 
of  mud-houses  under  the  walls  of  the  fort. 

If  the  sight  of  such  a structure  (the  only  building  we 
had  seen  since  we  left  the  Convent  at  Mount  Sinai)  was  an 
object  of  interest  to  us,  no  less  was  the  approach  of  a car- 
avan coming  across  the  desert  an  object  of  interest  to  them. 

' Our  arrival  put  the  encampment  into  commotion.  The 
whole  garrison  turned  out  to  see  us  pass,  officers  and  sol- 
diers, and  the  women  of  the  village,  and  children  too — 
every  mother’s  son  of  them  was  there  to  behold  the  advent 
of  the  Howadjis.  We  did  not  halt  to  receive  their  hom- 
age, but  swept  majestically  round  the  fort,  and  encamped 
on  the  northern  side. 

Hardly  had  we  pitched  our  tents  before  the  officer  in 
command  appeared.  He  was  not  a very  imposing  repre- 
sentative of  the  military  profession.  To  tell  the  truth,  he 
was  a battered  hulk,  perhaps  the  wreck  of  old  wars,  but 
answered  well  enough  for  such  an  out-of-the-way  post.  He 
made  us  many  salaams,  and  invited  us  to  his  castle — an 
invitation  with  which  we  speedily  complied.  In  ascending 
the  stairs  to  his  room,  we  nearly  blundered  into  the  harem, 
which  of  course  caused  a little  flutter.  However,  we  soon 
got  into  the  right  place,  where  we  sipped  our  coffee  with 
due  satisfaction.  The  old  soldier  then  took  us  over  the 


216 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


fort — a rude  square  building,  which,  can  be  considered  a 
fortification  only  by  courtesy.  It  had  in  the  court  a single 
cannon,  which  is  reserved,  I suppose,  for  saluting  on  great 
occasions,  as  when  a prince  or  other  grand  personage  makes 
the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  The  fort  has  one  provision  against 
a siege  in  a capacious  well,  from  which  the  water  is  drawn 
up  by  a wheel  and  buckets.  As  this  water  is  not  needed 
for  a besieged  garrison,  it  is  conveyed  by  a small  aqueduct 
to  large  tanks  outside  the  fort,  near  the  northern  wall. 
These  tanks  seem  indeed  as  if  they  might  furnish  water 
for  an  army.  There  is  also  a well  outside,  fifty  feet  deep 
and  about  fifty  feet  in  circumference,  encircled  by  a huge 
trough  of  stone,  from  which  twenty  or  thirty  camels  could 
drink  at  once.  The  next  morning  the  herds  were  driven 
in  from  the  desert  to  fill  up  the  cisterns  within  them  with 
a supply  for  days.  Here  camels  bound  on  the  pilgrimage 
drink  to  the  full  before  setting  out ; while  their  masters, 
drawing  up  the  water  in  leathern  buckets,  which  are  let 
down  by  goat’s-hair  cords,  fill  their  water-skins  for  their 
long  march  across  the  desert. 

When  we  had  thus  inspected  the  “Fort  of  Nukhl,”  and 
made  all  sorts  of  flattering  speeches  to  its  gallant  com- 
mander, we  thought  we  had  performed  the  courtesies  of 
the  occasion.  But  not  so  the  old  Colonel.  He  accompa- 
nied us  back  to  our  tent.  We  offered  him  a chair,  but  he 
preferred  to  squat,  like  a Turk,  on  our  rugs.  We  then  tried 
to  engage  him  in  conversation,  but  his  resources  were  not 
great.  Evidently  his  ideas  of  the  world  did  not  extend 
beyond  Cairo  and  Constantinople.  At  length  we  were  at  a 
loss  how  to  entertain  a visitor  who  sat  like  an  Indian 
sachem  in  his  wigwam,  answering  only  with  grunts.  We 
found  we  had  an  elephant  on  our  hands.  He  seemed  in 
no  haste  to  terminate  his  visit.  On  the  slightest  sugges- 
tion, he  was  ready  to  stay  to  dinner,  or  indeed  to  spend 


THE  TERRIBLE  WILDERNESS. 


217 


the  night  ; in  fact,  he  would  have  taken  up  his  quarters 
with  us  over  Sunday.  We  found  that  Oriental  hospitality 
had  its  embarrassments  as  well  as  its  pleasures.  We  were 
put  to  our  wits  to  know  how  to  get  rid  of  this  ponderous 
creature.  Of  course  it  must  be  done  with  strict  regard  to 
courtesy.  A happy  thought  struck  us,  and  we  called  the 
dragoman  to  our  relief  : “ Tohanna,  could  you  not  invite 
the  Governor  into  your  quarters  ? ” He  took  in  the  situa- 
tion in  an  instant,  and  advancing  in  the  blandest  manner, 
requested  the  honor  of  his  Excellency’s  presence  in  the 
adjoining  tent,  to  partake  of  coffee  and  smoke  the  chi- 
bouque. The  temptation  was  too  powerful  to  be  resisted. 
The  old  man  found  his  legs,  which  were  curled  up  some- 
where under  him,  and  waddled  off.  Half  an  hour  after  we 
saw  him  in  the  next  tent,  with  wreaths  of  smoke  curling 
round  his  head,  and  a serene  self-complacency  on  his  broad 
features,  like  a smile  on  the  face  of  a Chinese  idol. 

Towards  evening  a file  of  soldiers  marched  down  from 
the  fort  with  military  step,  and  took  their  places  in  front 
of  our  tents  to  be  our  protectors  for  the  night.  We  bade 
them  welcome,  and  directed  that  they  be  treated  with  hos- 
pitality. They  soon  made  friends  with  our  Arabs,  and 
stacking  their  guns,  are  now  sitting  round  the  camp-fire, 
smoking  their  pipes.  Thus  guarded  by  Moslem  soldiers, 
on  a spot  which  is  every  year  overspread  with  the  vast 
Moslem  camp,  we  sleep  to-night,  as  if  we  were  a couple  of 
dervishes  on  a pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NUKIIL OX  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 

If  some  of  my  countrymen  were  to  spend  two  days,  as 
we  did,  at  Nukhl,  I am  afraid  they  would  describe  it,  with 
that  elegance  and  felicity  of  speech  which  they  sometimes 
employ,  as  “ the  most  God-forsaken  place  on  the  face  of 
the  earth.”  It  must  he  confessed  that  it  has  few  external 
attractions.  A vast,  desolate  plain,  with  not  a palm-tree 
to  relieve  it  ; with  not  even  soft  sand  under  your  feet,  hut 
a surface  as  hard  as  if  it  had  heen  heaten  down  by  the 
tread  of  armies,  and  swept  by  all  the  winds  of  heaven — 
that  is  Nukhl ! A more  bleak  and  cheerless  waste  could 
not  be  found  on  the  steppes  of  Siberia,  or  even  in  the  heart 
of  the  Sahara. 

And  yet  there  are  not  many  spots  to  which  I have 
come  in  my  wanderings  about  the  world,  which  awaken 
more  associations  than  this  same  desolate  plain.  It  is  the 
“ cross-roads  ” of  two  races  and  two  religions — the  Hebrew 
coming  up  from  the  South,  from  Sinai,  bearing  the  Law  of 
God  to  the  land  promised  for  his  inheritance  ; and  the 
Arab  coming  from  the  East,  with  the  scimitar  in  his  hand, 
to  carry  Islam  into  Africa.  The  Hebrew  passed,  and  did 
not  return  ; but  where  the  Arab  passed,  the  wave  of  Islam 
has  continued  to  flow  from  that  day  to  this.  Mahomet  was 
bom  in  570  ; the  Hegira,  or  flight  from  Mecca,  from  which 
are  reckoned  all  the  dates  in  the  Moslem  Calendar,  was  in 
622  ; and  ten  years  later  the  Moslems  were  masters  of 
Egypt,  and  no  doubt  established  soon  after  the  custom  of 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


219 


an  annual  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  The  route  could  be  but 
in  one  line — a direct  course  from  the  head  of  the  Gulf  of 
Suez  to  the  head  of  the  Gulf  of  Akaba  ; and  it  is  probable 
that  the  conquerors  of  Egypt  fixed  the  midway  station  at 
Nukhl ; that  they  erected  the  fort,  and  dug  the  wells,  and 
built  the  tanks  ; and  that  along  this  route  thus  marked  out 
the  pilgrimage  has  flowed  and  reflowed  for  more  than 
twelve  hundred  years. 

The  custom  of  making  pilgrimages  to  holy  shrines  is  a 
very  ancient  one,  and  one  that  came  from  the  East.  The 
Wise  Men  came  from  the  East  to  the  place  of  the  Saviour’s 
birth.  Homan  Catholics  have  introduced  the  custom  into 
Europe,  but  its  origin  is  Asiatic.  India  is  the  land  of  pil- 
grimages. The  Prophet  did  not  forget  to  make  use  of  this 
powerful  means  of  touching  the  Oriental  imagination,  and 
inspiring  Oriental  devotion.  He  himself  made  pilgrimages 
to  Mecca.  Almost  the  last  act  of  his  life  wTas  to  lead  forty 
thousand  pilgrims  to  that  sacred  spot.  In  the  eyes  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  (some  estimate  it  at  a Landred  and 
eighty)  millions,  Mecca  is  the  holiest  spot  on  earth.  To 
visit  it — to  walk  round  the  Kaaba,  and  kiss  the  black  stone 
which  came  from  heaven,  and  to  chink  of  the  wTell  Zem 
Zem — is  at  once  the  greatest  privilege  and  honor.  To 
perform  this  act  of  devotion  invests  the  pilgrim  with  pecu- 
liar sanctity.  Pilgrims  come  from  all  parts  of  the  Mos- 
lem world.  When  I crossed  the  Mediterranean  in  1875, 
there  were  on  board  four  hundred  Circassians  from  the 
farther  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  ; and  when,  four  months 
later,  I sailed  from  Singapore  to  the  island  of  Java,  the 
deck  of  the  little  Dutch  steamer  was  crowded  with  return- 
ing pilgrims.  Thus  they  came  from  the  extremes  of  West- 
ern and  Southern  Asia,  to  meet  at  the  same  holy  place  in 
the  heart  of  Arabia. 

* But  the  most  imposing  Moslem  pilgrimages  are  from 


220 


NUKHL, 


Cairo  and  Damascus.  These  muster  the  largest  numbers, 
and  are  marshalled  with  the  greatest  splendor.  The  de- 
parture of  the  pilgrims  from  Cairo  is  the  event  of  the  year. 
They  are  accompanied  out  of  the  city  by  a military  pro- 
cession, and  by  a vast  multitude  mounted  on  horses  and 
camels.  Their  return  is  welcomed  with  still  greater  dem- 
onstrations. Troops  go  out  to  meet  them,  and  escort  them 
into  the  city  ; crowds  throng  the  streets  through  which 
they  pass  ; tlie  Khedive,  surrounded  by  his  officers  of 
state  and  by  thousands  of  soldiers,  awaits  their  coming  ; 
and  when  the  sheikh  rides  into  the  public  square  on  the 
sacred  camel,  bearing  the  sacred  carpet  which  for  one  year 
has  covered  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet,  the  bands  strike  up 
their  most  triumphant  airs,  which  are  answered  by  the 
thunder  of  cannon  from  the  Citadel. 

If  such  be  the  splendor  of  their  departure  and  return, 
something  of  this  must  surround  their  great  encampment 
on  the  desert ; for  of  all  these  caravans  moving  to  and  fro, 
and  of  this  religious  enthusiasm  rolling  between  Cairo  and 
Mecca,  Nukhl  is  the  centre.  Standing  in  front  of  the  fort, 
I could  not  but  think  what  a spectacle  it  must  be  when  the 
plain  is  covered  with  thousands  of  pilgrims,  of  different 
Oriental  races  and  languages,  in  the  picturesque  costumes 
of  the  East ; and  how  impressive  the  scene  when,  as  the 
sun  touches  the  western  horizon,  all  turn,  as  by  a common 
instinct,  towards  Mecca,  and  bow  upon  the  sands  and 
worship. 

With  such  associations  as  these,  this  plain  is  not  alto- 
gether desolate.  Few  things  in  a country  are  more  sug- 
gestive than  its  roads,  especially  those  which  lead  to  great 
capitals,  and  along  which  sweeps  a flood  of  tumultuous 
life.  The  Coliseum  itself  has  not  more  associations  than 
the  Appian  Way,  over  which  the  legions  marched,  “ bring- 
ing many  captives  home  to  Rome  ” ; and  hardly  less  inter- 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


221 


esting  is  this  great  highway  of  the  desert,  which  has  been 
swept  by  forty  generations  of  pilgrims. 

One  cannot  stand  by  such  a highway,  and  think  to 
where  it  leads,  without  a strong  desire  to  follow  it  to  the 
end — to  Mecca  itself!  Were  it  possible  to  bring  that 
within  the  range  of  travel,  what  would  one  not  give  to  be 
able  to  join  a caravan  from  Cairo  or  Damascus,  and  make 
the  great  pilgrimage ! Of  the  four  holy  cities  of  the 
world,  I have  visited  Rome  and  Benares,  and  am  on  my 
way  to  Jerusalem  : Mecca  alone  is  guarded  from  all  eyes 
but  those  of  the  faithful  : that  no  Giaour  can  enter  but  at 
the  risk  of  his  life.  It  is  said  that  in  a few  cases  a Euro- 
pean, who  had  lived  so  long  in  the  East  as  to  have  a per- 
fect mastery  of  Arabic,  has  disguised  himself  as  a dervish, 
and  mingling  with  the  crowd  of  pilgrims,  has  been  able  to 
reach  Mecca,  and  come  back  in  safety.  But  if  the  disguise 
were  penetrated,  and  the  intruder  discovefbd,  he  would 
not  return  to  tell  the  tale.  All  we  can  do,  therefore,  is  to 
look  towards  Mecca  from  a great  distance.  We  can  only 
stand  here  by  the  roadside,  and  in  imagination  follow  the 
dromedaries  as  they  move  awray  to  the  East,  and  disappear 
below  the  horizon. 

A scene  so  picturesque  touches  the  Oriental  imagina- 
tion, and  is  a frequent  subject  of  Arabic  poetry.  Dr.  Post 
was  fond  of  repeating  a stanza  from  a poem  which  de- 
scribes the  return  from  Mecca.  It  had  a very  musical 
sound,  and  preserves  its  poetical  flavor  even  in  a transla- 
tion. The  lines  ran  thus  : 

And  when  we  had  fulfilled  every  desire  in  the  holy  places, 

And  all  who  wished  had  touched  the  sacred  relics. 

We  gathered  up  the  broken  threads  of  our  conversation, 

And  the  rolling  wadies  flowed  with  the  necks  of  camels. 

The  exquisite  beauty  of  the  last  line  can  only  be  appre- 
ciated by  those  who  have  watched  a caravan  in  the  dis- 


222 


NUKHL, 


tance,  approaching  or  receding,  and  observed  how  the 
curved  necks  of  the  camels,  and  their  long  swinging 
motion,  seem  literally  to  flow,  as  it  were,  in  rhythmic  lines 
or  waves,  with  the  undulations  of  the  desert. 

But  the  interest  of  Nukhl  is  chiefly  of  a mournful  and  1 
melancholy  kind  : for  as  the  pilgrims  appear  and  vanish, 
they  leave  not  a trace  behind,  save  in  the  graves  of  those 
who  perish  in  the  march.  I observed  that  the  plain  was 
covered  wTith  low  mounds,  beneath  which,  we  could  not 
doubt,  rested  the  remains  of  myriads  of  pilgrims.  Along 
the  route  are  scattered  the  skeletons  of  camels  that  have 
fallen  by  the  way,  and  whose  flesh  has  been  devoured  by 
vultures,  such  as  are  at  this  moment  flying  over  the  plain, 
looking  for  new  victims.  On  the  horizon  is  a range  of  low 
limestone  hills,  which  are  said  to  be  the  haunt  of  the  wolf 
and  the  hyena,  which  sometimes  creep  down  into  the  plain 
to  find  water.  I could  not  resist  the  horrible  thought  that 
the  famished  beasts  sometimes  tore  open  the  graves  to 
make  a banquet  of  the  dead. 

As  we  think  of  these  pilgrims,  who  left  their  bones  in 
the  wilderness,  we  are  reminded  that  this  broad  track  in  the 
desert  has  been  the  royal  road  of  Death  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years.  Mecca  has  been  the  very  nest  and  breed- 
ing-place of  those  diseases  which  are  the  scourges  of  Asia — 
the  cholera  and  the  plague — which  have  been  carried  there 
by  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  Asia  and  Africa,  and  which 
returning  pilgrims  have  brought  with  them  and  scattered 
over  the  world.  Side  by  side  with  the  returning  caravans, 
keeping  company  with  them,  has  travelled  an  unseen  Pil- 
grim, advancing  along  this  very  route,  as  if  it  were  his  own 
king’s  highway,  from  Asia  into  Africa,  and  ravaging  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  has  at  last  carried  consterna- 
tion to  Western  Europe.  Again  and  again  has  there  been 
weeping,  not  only  in  the  low  quarters  of  populous  cities, 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


223 


but  in  high  halls  and  in  kings’  palaces,  because  of  the 
scourge  which  has  come  along  this  route  from  Mecca.  Of 
those  who  fell  on  the  desert,  tens  of  thousands  lie  beneath 
the  mounds  which  are  scattered  far  and  wide  over  the 
plain  of  Nukhl.  Here  they  sleep,  with  no  stone  to  record 
their  names,  or  even  to  mark  the  spot — their  only  requiem 
the  winds  of  the  desert. 

The  winds  of  the  desert ! That  sound  is  the  most 
melancholy  of  all  the  voices  of  nature.  It  is  not  like  the 
sound  of  the  wind  in  a forest  of  pines,  or  on  the  shore 
where  it  mingles  with  the  moaning  of  the  sea — for  there 
is  life  in  the  forest  and  in  the  sea,  life  in  the  swinging 
boughs  and  the  dashing  waves— but  in  the  wind  of  the 
desert  there  is  a hollow  sound,  for  it  comes  over  a world 
all  silent  and  still,  as  over  a world  of  the  dead,  and  seems 
to  be  wailing  like  a lost  spirit  over  innumerable  graves. 

But  Nukhl  had  another  interest  to  us,  as  the  point  in  our 
journey  where  we  had  to  make  an  entire  change  of  men 
and  camels  for  our  further  march.  We  were  now  to  have  an 
illustration  of  Bedaween  customs.  Here  we  entered  the 
territory  of  another  tribe,  the  Tayyahah,  which  claimed  the 
sole  right  to  levy  tribute  on  travellers  who  passed  through 
their  country.  We  knew  of  this  Arab  usage,  and  for  days 
had  been  looking  forward  to  the  change  with  the  utmost 
regret.  Ever  since  we  left  Suez  we  had  had  the  same 
men ; they  had  been  with  us  in  long  and  weary  marches, 
and  more  docile,  patient,  and  willing  servants  we  could 
not  desire,  and  we  were  very  unwilling  to  part  with  such 
faithful  companions.  They  too  were  equally  reluctant  to 
part  from  us,  whom  they  had  found  kind  and  indulgent ! 
masters,  and  were  willing  to  divide  what  they  should 
receive  with  the  new  tribe  if  they  might  be  permitted  to 
accompany  us.  But  the  Bedaween  of  Nukhl  were  inex- 
orable. They  would  allow  our  men  to  pass  through  their 


224 


NUKHL, 


territory  (as  indeed  they  did,  going  on  to  Gaza  to  bring 
back  supplies  for  the  Convent),  but  they  must  not  carry 
us.  To  furnish  guides  and  camels  for  travellers  was  the 
special  privilege  and  perquisite  of  the  tribe  in  whose  terri- 
tory we  were,  which  they  would  not  surrender.  If  our 
men  had  attempted  to  force  their  way,  there  would  have 
been  a pitched  battle.  Of  course  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  to  submit.  But  it  was  a real  sorrow  to  us  to  say  fare- 
well to  our  gentle  and  simple  Tawarah. 

Seeing  it  was  inevitable,  we  wished  to  do  something  to 
soften  the  pain  of  separation.  Dr.  Post,  who  knew  the 
hearts  of  the  Bedaween,  had  conceived,  “ in  the  recesses 
of  a mind  capacious  of  such  things,”  the  idea  of  a grand 
stroke  which  should  cause  us  to  be  forever  remembered 
by  our  companions,  and  to  be  blessed  in  their  tribe.  It 
was  to  buy  a sheep  and  give  it  to  them  to  roast  whole  and 
make  a feast.  “ But  what,”  I asked,  “ can  they  do  with  a 
whole  sheep  ? ” “ They  will  not  leave  a mouthful ; they 

will  pick  the  last  bone,”  was  the  answer.  It  is  so  seldom 
that  the  poor  fellows  get  a “ square  meal  ” that  when  it 
comes  they  do  it  full  justice.  Of  course  I was  delighted, 
and  enjoyed  in  advance  their  surprise  and  amazement  at 
this  unexpected  feast.  But  alas  for  our  generous  inten- 
tions ! “ To  cook  a hare  you  must  first  catch  it.”  There 

was  not  a sheep  to  be  had  in  all  the  country  round  for 
love  or  money.  So  we  had  to  abandon  our  brilliant  design 
and  content  ourselves  with  giving  a very  liberal  back- 
sheesh. 

And  now  came  the  negotiations  for  another  party.  The 
sheikh  of  the  tribe  presented  himself  immediately  on  our 
arrival.  As  soon  as  he  appeared,  the  large  heart  of  Yo- 
hanna  swelled  within  him  ; he  fell  on  the  neck  of  the  Arab 
and  kissed  him.  Their  love  was  like  the  love  of  David  and 
Jonathan.  Who  that  saw  these  brothers  folded  in  each 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


225 


other’s  arms  could  imagine  that  in  a few  horn's  one  would  he 
trying  to  cheat  the  other,  while  the  latter  would  he  writh- 
ing, not  in  embraces,  hut  in  toils  from  which  he  could  not 
escape  ? The  matter  was  one  of  some  difficulty.  A regu- 
lar contract  had  to  he  made,  as  we  had  made  one  before  in 
Cairo.  The  only  difference  was  that,  as  we  had  contracted 
with  our  dragoman  to  take  us  the  whole  journey,  it  was  his 
business  to  contract  with  the  sheikh.  But  of  course  we 
had  to  stand  behind  him  and  see  him  through.  This 
obliged  us  to  be  present  at  a scene  of  which  we  were 
unwilling  witnesses.  As  we  were  trying  to  get  a little 
rest  in  our  tent,  we  were  summoned  to  the  fort.  Our 
dragoman  was  in  trouble.  We  found  him  surrounded  by 
a dozen  or  twenty  Bedaween,  who  were  putting  him 
through  a course  of  torture.  The  more  he  writhed  under 
it  the  more  they  increased  their  exactions.  At  first  they 
asked  ten  pounds  above  the  regular  price,  then  twenty, 
and  finally  thirty  pounds ! Poor  Yohanna  was  in  despair. 
Being  of  an  excitable  temperament,  he  was  driven  to  frenzy 
by  these  repeated  demands,  and  for  a moment  lost  all 
self-control  ; his  face  was  swollen  with  rage,  his  eyes  were 
full  of  tears,  and  I thought  he  would  tear  the  hair  out  of 
his  head,  and  gave  him  one  anxious  look,  but  a glance 
reassured  me,  his  hair  was  very  short.  But  tears  and 
entreaties  were  in  vain  : the  Arabs  knew  that  we  could  not 
stir  a step  without  their  camels  and  their  guides,  and  were 
determined  to  profit  by  our  necessities.  Our  friend  the 
old  Governor  did  not  once  interpose  to  rescue  us  from 
their  rapacity.  Instead  of  using  his  authority  to  protect 
us,  he  looked  on  grinning  and  smiling,  and  evidently 
enjoyed  the  scene.  Of  course  it  was  useless  to  contend 
against  such  combined  forces,  and,  ignominious  as  it 
seemed,  we  advised  the  dragoman  to  capitulate,  to  make 
an  unconditional  surrender,  and  to  get  the  best  terms  he 


226 


NUKHL, 


could.  He  took  our  advice,  accepted  the  terms  and  en- 
tered into  a formal  contract  with  the  sheikh,  who  engaged 
to  furnish  the  requisite  number  of  camels  and  guides,  and 
to  convoy  us  safely  to  Gaza  in  sis  days.  The  contract  was 
duly  signed  and  sealed,  and  was  from  that  moment  bind- 
ing— so  far  as  anything  could  bind  these  wild  men  of  the 
desert. 

Perl  laps  some  may  think  we  felt  great  anger  and  indig- 
nation at  the  sheikh  and  his  comrades  who  cheated  us  so 
roundly.  On  the  contrary,  we  thought  ourselves  extremely 
fortunate  that  they  had  not  cheated  us  still  more.  We 
had  fallen  among  thieves,  and  they  acted  after  their  kind. 
They  might  have  asked  us  a hundred  pounds  too  much 
instead  of  thirty — or  five  hundred,  for  that  matter — and  we 
could  not  have  helped  ourselves.  We  were  completely  in 
their  power  ; to  use  the  slang  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  they 
had  “ a corner  ” on  us,  and  we  were  but  too  happy  to  get 
off  so  easily. 

After  this  disagreeable  business  it  was  a relief  to  get 
away  from  such  company  and  go  off  by  ourselves,  like 
Isaac,  to  meditate  at  eventide,  when,  as  if  to  add  to  the 
peace  of  the  hour  and  the  quiet  beauty  of  the  scene,  there 
hung  in  the  west  a new  moon.  Last  evening  we  had  seen 
only  the  stars,  in  which  we  recognized  the  familiar  constel- 
lations of  our  Northern  Hemisphere,  the  only  objects  that 
are  familiar  on  the  desert  or  on  the  sea.  But  to-night  we 
had  the  first  glimmer  of  the  young  moon.  We  had  had 
the  full  moon  at  Serbal,  as  we  shall  have  the  Paschal  moon 
at  Jerusalem  ; but  here,  midway  between  the  two,  we  have 
only  the  half  light  of  that  pale  and  slender  crescent.  It 
seemed  a singular  coincidence  that  we  should  have  the 
sign  of  Islam  hanging  over  the  place  of  the  great  Moslem 
camp. 

The  next  morning,  though  we  started  at  an  early  hour, 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


227 


the  old  Governor  was  on  hand  to  take  leave  of  us,  and 
hung  round  in  a way  that  was  very  suggestive.  We  knew 
what  he  was  after,  for,  like  all  Arabs,  he  had  an  itching 
palm.  But,  as  he  had  not  helped  us  in  our  difficulty,  we  re- 
solved to  teach  him  a lesson.  His  devotion,  however,  nearly 
overcame  our  resolution.  He  was  ready  to  give  his  life 
for  us.  He  declared  that  he  would  take  the  field  in  person, 
at  the  head  of  his  soldiers,  and  march  by  our  side,  to  guard 
us  from  the  dangers  of  the  way.  But  the  Doctor  was  not 
deceived  by  these  professions,  and  whispered  “ Don’t  give 
him  anything!”  To  his  grimaces  and  protestations  we 
replied  with  thanks.  He  bowed  and  smiled,  and  we  bowed 
and  smiled.  But  he  looked  very  blank  when  he  saw  us 
mount  our  camels,  with  not  a single  napoleon  left  in  his 
hand,  and  I have  no  doubt,  returned  disgusted  to  his 
castle. 

And  now  we  were  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  our  new 
set  of  retainers.  We  found  that  the  change  was  complete  ; 
that  in  taking  Arabs  of  another  tribe,  we  took  a very 
different  set  of  men — men  of  a different  physique,  larger 
and  stronger,  and  of  a less  gentle  aspect  than  our  late  com- 
panions ; and  before  we  were  through  with  them,  we  found 
that  they  differed  as  much  in  character  as  in  looks  ; that 
they  answered  much  more  to  our  idea  of  the  real  Bedaween 
of  the  desert.  Among  them  was  an  old  soldier  of  Ibrahim 
Pacha,  who  carried  a rusty  sword  by  his  side  in  token  of 
his  military  profession,  and  who,  before  we  reached  the 
end  of  our  journey,  showed  that,  in  spite  of  his  years,  he 
had  the  fiery  spirit  and  the  courage  of  a soldier.  Another 
carried  one  of  those  long  guns,  made  at  Damascus,  which 
are  the  pride  of  the  Bedaween,  though  we  could  not  think 
much  of  its  efficiency,  for  it  was  plugged  up  at  the  muzzle, 
and  the  lock  swathed  with  bandages  like  a mummy,  so  that 
it  seemed  as  if  it  must  take  a quarter  of  an  hour  before  it 


228 


NUKHL, 


could  be  unlimbered  for  action.  We  wished  to  relieve  the 
bearer  of  his  burden,  and  asked  him  to  give  it  to  one  of 
the  mounted  men  to  sling  on  his  saddle  ; but  no,  he  must 
have  it  always  in  his  hand,  in  case  we  were  attacked  by 
wild  beasts  (!)  or  by  robbers ! ! These  intimations  of 
danger  rather  amused  us,  for  we  saw  no  lion  in  our  path, 
and  the  wolves  and  hyenas  that  lurked  in  the  hills  were 
not  fierce  enough  to  attack  anything  more  formidable  than 
a dead  camel ; and  as  for  robbers,  we  travelled  in  the 
Desert  of  the  Wandering  five  days  without  meeting  a 
single  man ! However,  we  found  before  we  reached  G-aza 
that  our  Arab  knew  better  than  we,  and  that  there  were 
real  dangers  before  us,  against  which  it  was  necessary  to  be 
on  our  guard. 

The  leader  of  the  party  was  the  old  sheikh,  a somewhat 
notable  personage,  of  whom  I shall  speak  hereafter. 

The  camels  also  were  new  to  us,  and  with  them  we  had 
to  become  acquainted.  They  too,  like  their  masters,  were 
of  another  breed  than  those  we  had  had  before.  In  place 
of  my  young  dromedary,  I had  given  to  me  a camel  of 
much  larger  stature,  to  whose  back  I could  hardly  reach. 
To  mount  such  a huge  beast  seemed  like  climbing  a church 
steeple,  and  sitting  on  the  vane.  However,  if  she  was  not 
handsome,  she  was  good.  I found  her  a quiet  creature, 
that  carried  me  without  a murmur  over  the  long  stretches 
of  sandy  plain.  Indeed  she  was  of  a gentleness  quite  un- 
usual among  camels,  and  one  that  almost  required  expla- 
nation. I learned  that,  a month  before,  she  had  become 
the  mother  of  a little  camel  that  died,  and  this  sorrow 
seemed  to  be  in  her  maternal  heart,  and  to  cause  her  to  be 
in  a very  sad,  and  yet  very  tender,  mood.  The  cameleer 
who  led  her  was  her  owner — probably  his  only  possession 
in  the  world — and  even  when  not  leading  her,  walked  by 
her  side,  and  never  wearied  of  caressing  her.  He  would 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


229 


stroke  her  gently,  and  now  and  then  would  swing  her  long 
neck  round  and  kiss  her  huge  black  lips.  Sometimes  I 
observed  him  putting  his  hand  under  her,  and  making  it  a 
cup,  press  into  it  a little  of  her  milk,  which  he  put  as  a 
precious  draught  to  his  lips.  Once,  as  a great  honor,  he 
brought  me  a glass  of  camel’s  milk,  which  I found  not 
unpleasant,  though  I prefer  the  milk  of  our  little  Jerseys. 
Of  such  a creature  one  could  not  help  becoming  fond.  As 
we  got  better  acquainted,  she  allowed  me  to  pet  her,  to 
ruffle  the  fur  on  her  neck,  as  one  scratches  the  head  of  a 
parrot,  and  would  kneel  or  rise  at  my  bidding. 

Dr.  Post  was  less  fortunate.  He  had  given  to  him  a 
camel  that  ought  to  have  been  a means  of  grace  to  him, 
for  certainly  she  would  have  been  a trial  to  any  man. 
Oh,  but  she  was  a growler ! She  would  grumble  on  the 
slightest  provocation,  or  on  none  at  all.  If  he  turned  her 
this  way  or  that,  no  matter  how  gently,  or  if  he  did  not 
touch  the  halter,  but  let  her  take  her  own  way,  it  made  no 
difference.  If  we  reined  up  to  have  a little  quiet  talk  as 
we  rode  along,  this  vicious  old  creature  was  sure  to  take 
part  in  the  conversation  ; and  if  her  rider  tried  to  hush 
her,  she  would  hit  up  her  voice  the  louder.  She  was  one 
of  those  bores  that  will  not  be  suppressed  ; and  if  her 
master  finally  lost  patience,  and  gave  her  the  beating  that 
she  deserved,  she  set  up  a terrible  roaring.  That  camel 
was  a beast ! Human  nature,  however  cross-grained,  could 
not  have  been  worse. 

Thus  mounted  and  guarded,  we  set  out  on  our  march, 
just  as  the  sun  was  rising  over  the  desert.  At  first  we 
directed  our  course  to  the  East,  which  we  could  not  under- 
stand, for  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  following  nearly  in  the 
track  of  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  but  presumed  that  the 
sheikh  who  was  our  guide,  like  an  old  mariner,  was  mak- 
ing a little  “Easting”  to  strike  into  some  broad  wady, 


230 


NUKHL, 


when  he  would  turn  to  the  North — a conjecture  which 
proved  true,  as  in  a few  hours  we  struck  again  into  the 
great  Wady  el  Arish.  After  miles  of  weary  march,  we  saw 
before  us  another  wall  of  mountains,  which  we  did  not 
cross,  but  kept  in  view  as  we  moved  along  the  bed  of  the 
“ River  of  Egypt.” 

Our  course  to-day  led  over  great  flint-covered  plains. 
It  was  indeed  “ a dry  and  thirsty  land  where  no  water  is,” 
and  yet  all  round  us  shone  crystal  lakes,  only  they  were 
always  out  of  reach,  and  had  we  advanced  towards  them 
we  might  have  gone  on  forever.  It  was  our  first  sight  of 
the  mirage.  Observing  it  closely,  it  seemed  as  if  it  were  a 
phenomenon  very  easy  of  explanation  ; that  it  was  caused 
by  the  vibration  of  the  heated  air  near  the  surface  of  the 
desert,  which  produced  an  illusion  like  that  from  the 
reflection  of  the  sun  on  rippling  water.  Studied  merely 
as  a wonder  of  nature,  as  we  study  the  rainbow,  it  was  a 
beautiful  object,  but  what  a mocking  fiend  it  must  be  to 
those  whom  it  lures  on  and  on,  only  to  perish  at  last.  To 
one  dying  of  thirst  there  could  hardly  be  a more  cruel 
torture  than  this  gleam  of  water  in  the  distance. 

Towards  evening  we  came  near  mountains  which, 
to  the  eye  of  the  Doctor,  resembled  those  of  Palestine. 
Thus  almost  every  day  something  looms  up  on  the  hori- 
zon which  reminds  one  or  the  other  of  mountain  scenery 
or  coast  scenery  which  is  familiar.  The  desert,  while  it 
is  like  the  sea  in  its  vast  expanse,  is  different  in  this, 
that  it  is  a sea  with  the  coast  always  in  sight.  I do  not 
remember  ever  having  been  “ out  of  sight  of  land.”  There 
is  always  at  least  a range  of  low  hills  on  the  horizon,  which 
sometimes  rise  to  mountains,  and  recall  mountains  that 
we  have  seen  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  Often  we  seem 
to  be  sailing  along  a rugged  coast,  and  can  easily  imagine 
ourselves  off  the  west  coast  of  Ireland,  or  sailing  up  St- 


ON  THE  ROUTE  OF  PILGRIMS  TO  MECCA. 


231 


George’s  Channel,  with  the  mountains  of  Wales  in  sight, 
or  along  the  southern  shore  of  the  Isle  of  Wight.  This 
evening,  while  the  mountains  to  our  left  were  in  deep 
shadow,  the  setting  sun,  striking  across  the  open  plain 
before  us,  fell  on  a long  range  of  cliffs  on  our  right,  the 
effect  of  which  was  heightened  by  the  mirage,  which  made 
them  seem  as  if  they  rose  out  of  water,  and  thus  re- 
minded me  of  the  chalk  cliffs  of  Dover,  while  isolated 
cliffs,  standing  out  here  and  there,  might  easily  be  imag- 
ined a fleet  of  line-of-battle  ships  bearing  down  the  Chan- 
nel. Yet  this  is  the  route  to  Palestine  by  Nukhl,  which 
“presents  no  object  of  interest  to  the  traveller  ” ! 


CHAPTER  XVH 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 

We  had  set  out  from  Nukhl  with  the  determination  to 
reach  Gaza  by  the  end  of  the  week  at  any  cost,  even  if  it 
were  necessary  to  make  forced  marches  for  the  purpose. 
We  were  now  in  a region  where  we  were  liable  to  storms, 
that  might  render  it  impossible  for  a whole  day,  or  a series 
of  days,  to  stir  from  camp  ; and  in  apprehension  of  such 
delays,  we  determined  to  make  the  most  of  clear  weather. 
So  we  rose  early,  starting  soon  after  sunrise,  and  kept  on 
till  nearly  dark.  This  caused  a grumbling  among  the  men, 
the  sound  of  which  soon  came  to  our  ears.  We  found  our 
new  Arabs  were  not  so  tractable  as  the  old  ones.  Their 
plan  was  directly  opposed  to  ours  : instead  of  starting 
early  and  camping  late,  they  preferred  to  start  late  and 
camp  early.  They  would  like  to  take  it  leisurely,  starting 
at  eight  or  nine  o’clock,  and  going  into  camp  at  three  or 
four  ; and  when  they  saw  us  striding  ahead,  and  thus  forc- 
ing them  to  follow,  they  began  to  murmur  among  them- 
selves, and  from  murmurs  proceeded  to  threats.  So  much 
did  they  work  upon  the  fears  of  the  dragoman,  that  he 
lost  his  head,  and  came  to  us  in  a panic  of  terror  to  tell  us 
that  “ if  we  pressed  the  men  so  hard,  they  would  leave  us 
and  go  home.”  This  was  not  a light  danger  to  look  in  the 
face.  Had  they  executed  such  a threat,  we  should  have 
been  like  men  in  an  open  boat  in  mid-ocean.  We  should 
have  had  to  walk  a hundred  miles  (not  even  knowing  the 
way)  without  food  or  water,  with  a good  chance  of  leaving 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


233 


our  bodies  on  tlie  desert,  a prey  to  vultures  and  hyenas. 
Such  a spirit  had  to  be  stamped  out  on  the  instant.  The 
suggestion  roused  Dr.  Pest,  gentle  as  he  is,  and  he  turned 
fiercely  upon  the  dragoman  : “ Yohanna,  what  do  you 
mean  by  talking  to  the  men  in  this  way,  or  listening  to 
them?  The  trouble  is  not  with  them  : it  is  with  you — 
with  your  miserable  cowardice  ! Go  about  your  business, 
and  look  after  the  tents  and  the  baggage,  and  leave  the 
men  to  me.  I know  the  Arabs,  and  I will  take  care  of 
them.”  Yohanna  slunk  off  to  the  rear  of  the  train,  but 
for  several  days  he  was  in  mortal  fear  lest  we  should  be 
left  like  a shipwrecked  crew  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean. 

Having  silenced  the  dragoman,  the  Doctor  turned  to  the 
sheikh,  and  to  dispose  him  to  favor  these  long  marches,  ad- 
dressed him  in  quite  another  fashion,  enlarging  on  the  num- 
ber of  his  camels,  which  made  him  a man  of  great  considera- 
tion on  the  desert.  He  then  drew  upon  his  imagination  for 
a picture  of  myself,  using  well-flavored  Oriental  language. 
He  described  me  as  a personage  of  great  distinction,  a 
sort  of  prince  in  disguise  (very  much  in  disguise),  who 
was  abroad  in  quest  of  knowledge,  and  who  it  was  very 
desirable  should  carry  away  high  impressions  of  his  coun- 
try, and  who  (this  was  thrown  in  incidentally),  whatever 
his  affluence  or  generosity,  might,  if  disappointed  or  de- 
layed in  his  progress,  be  less  princely  in  his  gifts  than  he 
would  otherwise  be ! At  the  suggestion  of  backsheesh, 
the  old  sheikh  grew  attentive  and  almost  devout,  and  at 
length  answered  with  great  solemnity,  as  if  he  had  screw- 
ed up  his  mind  to  the  highest  pitch  of  resolution,  and  only 
needed  Divine  assistance,  “ We  have  leaned  upon  God  ” ! 

This  sheikh  was  quite  a character.  His  mixture  of 
pious  phrases  with  craft  and  cunning,  his  fervent  appeals 
to  Heaven  while  keeping  an  eye  on  the  main  chance, 
made  him  a good  representative  of  his  race.  But  for  an 


234 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


Arab,  be  was  not  uninteHigent.  He  knew  tbe  desert  as 
tbe  mariner  knows  tbe  sea,  and  gave  us  mucb  information 
about  tbe  state  of  bis  people.  “ How  do  you  manage  to 
live  liere  on  tbe  desert  ? ” was  one  of  our  first  inquiries. 
“Well,”  answered  tbe  sbeikb,  “we  make  a few  grindstones, 
and  bum  a little  charcoal,  and  if  a man  raises  two  or  three 
camels,  be  sells  them.”  “ But,  does  not  tbe  government 
pay  you  for  tbe  protection  you  give  to  tbe  pilgrims  who 
camp  at  Nukhl  on  their  way  to  Mecca  ? ” “ Tbe  govern- 

ment pay  anything  ? ” said  tbe  old  man,  and  bis  eyes 
flashed  as  be  answered  bitterly  : “ Tbe  government  would 
take  tbe  grave-clothes  off  from  tbe  dead ! It  pays  for 
nothing,  but  takes  everything.” 

Few  of  tbe  Arabs  can  read  and  write.  Yet  in  propor- 
tion to  their  ignorance,  is  their  reverence  for  what  is 
written  or  printed,  which  has  to  them  such  a superiority 
to  their  own  degree  of  knowledge  as  to  be  almost  sacred 
in  their  eyes.  Thus  when  a question  arose  as  to  where  we 
must  camp  for  tbe  night,  Dr.  Post  appealed  to  the  map  in 
tbe  guide-book.  But  tbe  sbeikb  shook  bis  bead  ; it  was 
quite  impossible  for  him  to  comprehend  bow  tbe  relations 
of  dark  lines  on  a map  corresponded  to  tbe  relations  of 
mountains,  wadies,  and  plains.  He  did  not  know ; it 
might  be  so  ; but  be  could  not  understand  it.  “ But,” 
said  tbe  Doctor  with  tbe  tone  of  a man  who  produces  an 
argument  which  settles  tbe  matter,  “is  anything  that  is 
printed  in  a book  a be  ? ” “ No,  indeed,”  said  tbe  old 

man  with  a simphcity  of  faith  dehghtful  to  witness,  “ God 
forbid ! ” 

One  evening  as  they  were  sitting  round  tbe  camp-fire, 
Dr.  Post  took  tbe  opportunity  to  ask  about  tbe  laws  of 
bospitabty  among  tbe  Bedaween.  He  said  : “ If  your 
tribe  was  at  war  with  another  tribe,  and  you  were  to  meet 
one  of  that  tribe  alone  on  tbe  desert,  bow  would  you  treat 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


235 


him  ? ” “ That  would  depend  on  how  he  came  to  ns.  If 

he  came  as  an  enemy,  we  should  treat  him  as  an  enemy. 
If  he  raised  his  spear,  we  should  attack  him,  and  perhaps 
kill  him  or  make  him  prisoner.  But  if  he  threw  himself 
upon  our  hospitality,  we  should  do  him  no  harm  ; hut,  . 
on  the  contrary,  we  wordd  defend  him  and  protect  him, 
and  conduct  him  in  safety  to  the  border  of  his  tribe,  and 
let  him  depart  in  peace.” 

When  the  Doctor  came  and  reported  to  me  this  con- 
versation, I felt  that  now  at  last  we  had  found  what 
Diogenes  looked  for  with  his  lantern — a man ! (I  was 
ready  to  forget  how  he  took  advantage  of  us  in  the  con- 
tract at  Nuklil,  and  to  think  only  of  the  present  display  of 
virtue.)  Here  was  an  untutored  child  of  nature,  who  had 
never  felt  the  restraining  influences  of  civilization,  and 
who  yet,  out  of  the  fountain  of  goodness  within  him,  was 
imbued  with  the  noblest  sentiments  that  could  inspire  the 
human  breast.  If  he  was  not  a Christian,  he  was  the 
highest  type  of  Moslem,  having  the  natural  instincts  of 
justice,  with  the  added  virtue  of  hospitality  prescribed  by 
his  religion. 

After  this  it  was  a little  discouraging  to  hear  the  drago- 
man say  that  this  same  old  sheikh  was  himself  a notorious 
robber,  and  had  helped  himself  to  the  property  of  others 
to  such  good  purpose  that  he  was  now  the  possessor  of 
two  hundred  camels ! “ Did  you  not  see  those  camels  on 

the  hills  as  you  approached  the  camp  ? They  all  belong 
to  him,  and  are  in  great  part  spoil  which  he  has  thus 
obtained.”  I knew  that  the  wealth  of  the  desert  was  in 
camels.  Whan  a man  has  twenty  or  thirty,  his  great 
desire  is  more  camels  1 He  sells  off  some  of  the  males,  and 
keeps  the  females  for  breeding.  If  that  does  not  supply 
him  fast  enough,  he  can  replenish  his  herd  by  a judicious 
raid  into  the  territory  of  his  neighbor.  But  to  think  that 


236 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


our  virtuous  old  slieikh  could  thus  enrich  himself ! Yet 
that  very  evening,  at  another  of  the  camp-fires  -where  we 
were  not  present,  he  boasted  that  several  years  before  he 
had  executed  a great  raid  towards  Mecca,  as  the  fruit  of 
which  he  brought  back  some  forty  camels ! This  was  a 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca  to  some  profit.  In  his  view  this  was 
the  great  achievement  of  his  life. 

These  marauding  expeditions  are  the  chief  excitement 
of  the  desert,  and  a source  of  perpetual  fighting  between 
different  sheikhs  and  different  tribes.  A man  who  makes 
a business  of  robbing  must  of  course  take  the  chances  of 
war,  and  not  complain  if  now  and  then  he  is  robbed  him- 
self. He  who  does  not  hesitate  to  kill,  must  take  his 
chances  of  being  killed.  We  had  at  hand  this  very  mo- 
ment an  illustration  of  the  blood  feud.  Just  now  Dr.  Post 
rode  up,  and  said  that  his  cameleer  had  an  affair  of  honor 
on  his  hands.  A few  days  since  his  brother  was  with  oth- 
ers tending  a herd  of  camels  which  had  been  driven  to 
pasturage  ground  south  of  Hebron,  when  a party  from  an- 
other tribe,  probably  from  near  the  Dead  Sea,  came  upon 
them,  and  stole  the  camels,  and  killed  his  brother.  Now 
his  only  thought  is  of  revenge.  As  soon  as  he  returns 
from  being  with  us,  he  will  muster  some  of  his  clan,  and 
set  out  to  make  a raid  in  return.  He  will  hope  to  re- 
cover his  camels,  but  his  one  object  in  life  will  be  to  kill 
somebody  in  revenge  for  his  brother ! 

When  we  heard  that  our  own  sheikh  was  a robber,  we 
were  grieved  to  the  heart,  as  when  one  learns  something 
to  the  reproach  of  a well-beloved-  friend  : for  had  we  not 
sat  at  his  camp-tire,  and  taken  sweet  counsel  together? 
Such  a disappointment  was  calculated  to  shake  our  faith 
in  human  nature.  Our-  ideal  was  destroyed  ; our  idol  was 
cast  down  to  the  ground.  As  Washington  said  after  the 
treason  of  Arnold,  “ Whom  can  we  trust  now  ? ” so  could 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


237 


we  say,  How  can  we  ever  believe  again  in  an  Arab  slieikh 
as  a model  of  virtue  ? 

The  next  morning,  as  if  to  show  how  virtue  (!)  is 
rewarded  in  this  world,  there  came  by  our  tent  at  sunrise 
a great  herd  of  camels,  which  belonged  to  our  friend  the 
sheikh,  and  were  the  reward  of  his  “ industry  ” ! They 
were  being  driven  to  new  pastures,  having  exhausted  their 
late  grounds.  It  was  a very  picturesque  sight.  There 
were  camels  of  all  sizes  and  all  ages,  large  and  small,  old 
and  young — some  were  very  young,  mere  babies.  I ob- 
served that  the  old  camels  had  large  humps,  and  was  told 
that  when  they  are  not  used,  but  are  left  at  pasture,  their 
humps  increase  in  size.  They  were  accompanied  by  their 
herdsmen,  who  were  all  dressed  in  sheepskins,  like  the 
shepherds  on  the  Campagna  around  Rome.  Following 
on  soon  after,  we  overtook  them  as  they  were  roaming 
over  the  hills.  I think  the  sheikh  had  a new  saddle- 
beast  brought  to  him  to  ride,  for  he  suddenly  appeared 
mounted  on  a young,  swift  dromedary.  While  we  were 
moving  along  at  a slow  and  solemn  pace,  he  dashed  up  at 
full  speed,  and  rode  by  as  if  in  a charge  of  battle.  His 
legs  and  feet  were  bare,  but  he  had  on  a red  tunic  under 
his  coarse  goat’s-hair  cloak,  and  there  was  a touch  of  finery 
in  the  housings  of  his  saddle.  He  presented  quite  a mili- 
tary figure,  with  his  gun  slung  behind  his  back,  and  his 
pistol  in  his  belt,  as  he  rode  by  at  full  gallop,  and  disap- 
peared over  the  crest  of  a hill.  As  he  passed,  I observed 
sticking  up  behind  him  what  I took  to  be  a sheep’s  head, 
but  what  proved  to  be  a little  camel,  born  only  the  day 
before,  which  he  had  slung  by  his  saddle,  and  carried 
off,  while  the  poor  mother  followed  behind,  lowing  and 
groaning  mournfully.  As  the  whole  herd  was  on  a day’s 
march  to  find  pasture,  and  as  this  new-born  baby  could 
not  walk,  it  was  thus  carried.  After  a time  the  sheikh 


238 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


took  it  out  of  the  sack,  and  put  it  on  the  ground,  when  the 
poor  mother  nursed  it  with  great  satisfaction. 

These  little  camels  were  a great  amusement  to  us.  We 
had  one  in  our  camp  but  a few  weeks  old,  the  offspring  of 
one  of  our  saddle-beasts,  that  followed  its  mother  all  the 
way  to  Gaza,  six  days  march.  Like  the  young  of  all  ani- 
mals, it  had  a certain  prettiness  that  did  not  belong  to  the 
huge  form  of  the  full-grown  camel.  But  it  had  none  of 
the  fun  and  frolic  of  a young  colt.  The  solemnity  of  that 
little  creature  was  overpowering.  Once  or  twice  the  Doc- 
tor tried  to  stir  it  up  to  play,  but  it  made  no  response 
to  these  attentions,  except  to  rise  up  slowly  and  move  off  a 
few  paces,  as  if  in  silent  protest  against  such  familiarities. 
He  gave  it  up,  concluding  that  the  love  of  fun  and  play 
was  wholly  wanting  in  the  camel,  whose  “ moral  nature  ” 
seems  to  be  subdued  to  the  endless  monotony  of  the  desert. 

The  following  day  the  sheikh  left  us  with  many  salaams 
and  benedictions.  After  cheating  us  all  he  could,  he  gave 
us  his  blessing,  like  some  men  that  are  not  Bedaween.  It 
was  truly  delightful,  after  we  had  been  robbed,  to  have 
the  man  who  had  robbed  us  willing  to  part  on  the  best  of 
terms,  hoping  to  meet  us  again,  and  renew  our  pleasant 
relations ! We  were  touched  by  the  assurance  of  his  dis- 
tinguished consideration.  The  old  man  wished  us  Peace  : 
what  more  could  we  ask  ? He  gave  us  his  blessing  : 
may  it  do  us  good  ! * 

* My  recollection  of  two  notable  personages  who  appear 
in  these  pages — the  Sheikh  of  the  tribe  of  the  Tayyahah  and 
the  Governor  of  Nukhl — has  been  quickened  by  recent  intel- 
ligence, which  renders  it  quite  probable  that  both  were  con- 
cerned in  the  massacre  of  Professor  Palmer  and  his  party,  an 
event  which  has  created  such  a profound  feeling  in  England, 
on  account  of  the  character  of  the  men  who  suffered  this  ter- 
rible fate.  Edward  Henry  Palmer  was  one  of  the  first  Oriental 
scholars  in  England.  In  the  University  of  Cambridge  he  was 


ILLNESS  QN  THE  DESERT. 


239 


As  we  were  getting  farther  North,  the  country  was  not 
so  utterly  uninhabited.  Now  and  then  we  descried  in  the 
distance  a party  of  Bedaween,  mounted  on  their  camels, 
coming  toward  us  at  full  sail.  As  they  came  up  out  of 
the  horizon,  like  ships  out  of  the  sea,  Dr.  Post  would  ex- 
claim “ There  come  the  Midianites ! ” for  indeed  I suppose 
these  men  of  the  desert,  in  race  and  costume,  as  in  the 

a Professor  of  Arabic,  of  which  he  was  master,  besides  being 
familiar  with  other  languages  of  the  Farther  East,  translating 
poems  from  the  Persian,  and  reading  and  speaking  Hindustanee. 
He  had  made  a special  study  of  the  Peninsula  of  Sinai,  having  been 
with  the  Survey  Expedition  in  1868-69,  and  also  in  charge  of  an 
exploring  party  in  the  Desert  of  the  Wandering,  and  the  South 
Country,  and  Moab,  in  1869-70.  The  result  of  his  explorations 
was  a work  of  great  value  on  “The  Desert  of  the  Exodus.” 
He  was  well  known  to  the  sheikhs  and  the  tribes  on  the 
desert.  So  familiar  indeed  had  his  face  become  that  he  bore 
the  name  of  Sheikh  Abdallah.  Probably  it  was  this  familiarity 
with  the  country  and  its  inhabitants  which  gave  him  confidence 
that  he  could  go  anywhere  with  safety,  and  thus  led  him  into 
such  peril  and  to  death.  Soon  after  the  commencement  of  the 
present  war,  he  offered  his  services  to  the  English  Government 
to  make  a journey  into  the  interior.  It  is  said  that  he  was  going 
to  Nukhl  to  meet  the  sheikh  ; and  that  he  took  with  him  three 
thousand  pounds  for  the  purchase  of  camels,  to  be  used  for  trans- 
portation by  the  Indian  Contingent  that  was  to  arrive  at  Suez; 
and  which,  instead  of  joining  the  English  troops  at  Ismailia, 
was  to  execute  a separate  movement  across  the  desert  to  Cairo. 
Whatever  his  purpose,  it  was  a rash  undertaking  to  venture 
among  these  fierce  tribes  at  a moment  when  they  were  greatly 
excited  by  the  war.  He  was  accompanied  by  two  officers,  Capt. 
Gill  and  Lieut.  Charrington,  who  had  had  experience  in  such  expe- 
ditions. But  their  enterprise  was  soon  to  come  to  an  end.  They 
had  made  but  a single  day’s  march  from  the  Wells  of  Moses  to 
Wady  Sudr,  the  place  of  our  first  encampment  on  the  desert. 
From  this  wady  a pass  leads  through  the  mountain  range 
towards  Nukhl,  which  probably  Professor  Palmer  was  to  take. 
As  the  party  reached  this  camping -ground,  they  found  the 


240 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


beasts  they  rode,  were  not  very  unlike  the  Midianites  who 
bought  Joseph  of  his  brethren  and  sold  him  into  Egypt. 
We  met  also  several  parties  of  the  Tawarah  tribe  return- 
ing from  Gaza,  loaded  with  grain,  two  sacks  to  a camel, 
each  sack  containing  several  bushels.  Their  appearance 
was  such  as  we  suppose  that  of  the  sons  of  Jacob  to 
have  been  when  they  went  down  into  Egypt  to  buy  com. 

Bedaween  gathering  around  them  in  dangerous  numbers,  threat- 
ening an  attack.  But  as  it  was  dark,  and  the  Arabs  did  not  know 
what  force  the  English  had,  they  threw  a cordon  round  them, 
and  waited  until  morning,  when,  seeing  how  few  they  were,  they 
went  in  and  took  them  prisoners,  and  conducted  them  to  a rough 
place  in  the  mountains,  to  the  edge  of  a precipice,  and  gave 
them  their  choice — to  throw  themselves  over  or  be  shot.  It  is 
said  that  Prof.  Palmer — who  is  described  as  a shy,  timid  man, 
with  the  look  of  the  Professor  that  he  was,  spectacled  and  nerv- 
ous— covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  took  the  fatal  leap ; 
while  Capt.  Gill  and  Lieut.  Charrington,  with  the  instinct  of  sol- 
diers, chose  to  be  shot,  and  fell  with  their  face  to  the  foe.  Their 
bodies  were  then  thrown  over  the  precipice. 

This  terrible  affair  was  for  some  time  unknown ; but  as  no 
report  was  received  from  the  expedition,  alarm  began  to  be  felt, 
and  Col.  Warren,  with  a force  large  enough  fur  its  own  pro- 
tection, was  sent  in  search.  The  fate  of  the  missing  party  was 
soon  learned,  as  the  bodies  of  the  murdered  men  were  found  in 
the  ravine  below  the  precipice  where  they  perished.  It  is  said 
that  Col.  Warren  found  the  desert  full  of  hostility;  that  scouts 
and  messengers  whom  he  sent  out  were  killed ; and  that  his 
own  party  was  threatened  with  attack.  Among  their  important 
discoveries  was  a letter  of  the  Governor  of  Nukhl,  proving  that 
he  gave  the  order  for  the  massacx-e ! From  my  very  vivid  recol- 
lection of  the  old  wretch  who  commanded  the  fort,  as  well  as  of 
the  crafty  sheikh  into  whose  hands  we  fell,  I am  not  at  all  sur- 
prised at  the  report  that  both  were  concerned  in  it.  If  this  be 
proved,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  and  all  the  leaders  will  be 
taken  and  executed.  Without  a punishment  severe  enough  to 
strike  awe  into  the  tribes,  English  and  American  travellers  will 
hardly  dare  to  make  the  trip  across  the  desert. 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


241 


Probably  they  took  the  old  caravan  route  from  Syria  to 
Egypt — a journey  that  need  not  have  taken  more  time 
than  the  twenty-four  days  now  required  for  the  camel’s 
pace  from  Sinai  to  Gaza  and  back  again. 

It  is  one  of  the  chief  pleasures  of  this  desert  travelling, 
that  it  brings  before  us  so  vividly  the  mode  of  life  of  patri- 
archal times  : for  the  world  does  not  change  on  the  desert, 
and  men  live  now  as  they  lived  thousands  of  years  ago. 
Abraham  was  a sheikh — not  in  character  like  the  one  from 
whom  we  have  just  parted,  but  in  appearance  perhaps  not 
unlike  a sheikh  who  may  be  seen  now  and  then,  aged  and 
venerable,  with  long  and  snowy  beard  falling  on  his  breast. 
He  was  a prince  of  the  desert,  rich  in  camels  and  asses, 
and  flocks  and  herds,  and  men-servants  and  maid-servants. 
The  custom  by  which  he  held  his  servants  is  the  same 
which  exists  to-day.  One  of  the  men  that  accompanied 
us  from  Nukhl  was  a black  who  belonged  to  the  sheikh — 
yet  not  a slave,  as  the  dragoman  was  careful  to  explain, 
but  “ a servant  born  in  his  house,”  and  entitled  by  usage, 
if  not  by  written  law,  to  certain  privileges,  which  date 
from  the  earliest  times. 

While  we  were  thus  on  the  march,  making  our  obser- 
vations, and  our  comparisons  of  that  which  now  is  with 
that  which  has  been,  we  had  other  experiences  of  a seri- 
ous character  to  which  I must  refer,  if  it  were  only  as 
a lesson  and  warning  to  future  travellers.  If  these  de- 
scriptions of  life  on  the  desert  should  lead  others  to  follow 
me,  I must  insist  that  they  take  the  utmost  precautions  : 
for  while  the  journey  is  one  of  extraordinary  interest, 
it  is  also  one  of  very  great  fatigue.  The  fatigue  alone 
would  be  nothing,  if  one  could  he  down  after  a day’s 
march,  and  get  thoroughly  rested.  But  on  the  desert  the 
pressure  is  incessant  to  keep  moving.  There  is  no  spot 
that  invites  to  rest  ; no  quiet  wayside  inn,  no  cooling 


242 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


shade,  attracts  the  weary  traveller.  Herein  lies  the  dan- 
ger, that  this  succession  of  forced  marches  will  finally 
bring  on  utter  exhaustion.  To  this  danger  we  were  espe- 
cially exposed,  from  the  long  route  we  took.  Merely  to 
go  from  Suez  to  Sinai  and  return,  is  comparatively  easy : 
for  that  is  but  six  days  either  way,  and  the  traveller  can 
rest  at  Sinai  a week  if  he  chooses  before  he  begins  his 
homeward  march.  But  when  the  time  of  the  return  jour- 
ney is  doubled,  the  exposure  is  quadrupled  ; for  the  pro- 
cess of  exhaustion  goes  on  in  a compound  ratio,  and  is 
very  likely  to  end  in  illness,  which  in  this  helpless  situa- 
tion, utterly  separated  from  all  chance  of  relief,  at  once 
becomes  a serious  matter.  I had  once  had  a narrow 
escape.  The  day  after  the  ascent  of  Serbal,  I was  com- 
pletely used  up,  and  that  night  was  threatened  with  fever  ; 
and  now  Dr.  Post,  who  was  so  wiry  and  active,  and  who 
seemed  incapable  of  fatigue,  was  in  danger  of  breaking 
down. 

On  the  second  day  after  leaving  Nuklrl,  we  attempted 
a forced  march,  starting  at  six  o’clock,  so  that  by  eleven 
we  had  done  what  we  ought  to  have  been  satisfied  with 
doing  by  noon.  We  had  been  five  hours  in  the  saddle, 
and  had  done  the  half  of  a full  day’s  work.  I then 
observed  for  the  first  time  the  Doctor’s  spirits  flag.  He 
dismounted,  and  threw  himself  under  a juniper  bush  with 
a look  of  exhaustion  that  I had  never  seen  in  him  before, 
and  told  me  to  ride  on,  and  that  he  would  soon  join  me. 
I thought  my  place  was  beside  him  under  that  juniper 
bush.  Could  our  friends  at  home  have  seen  us  at  that 
moment,  they  would  have  felt  an  anxiety  which  they  were 
happily  spared,  since  they  did  not  hear  of  it  till  it  was  all 
over. 

After  an  horn-  and  a half,  we  started  again,  riding  and 
walking  by  turns  till  a little  after  four  o’clock,  when  we 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


243 


came  to  a beautiful  spot  for  a camp.  As  soon  as  we  were 
off  the  camels,  the  Doctor  took  shelter  under  a large  bush 
till  the  baggage  train  should  come  up.  It  always  seemed 
to  move  very  slowly  when  we  were  waiting  impatiently  for 
it.  As  soon  as  the  tents  were  pitched,  he  lay  down  on  his 
cot  with  an  expression  of  utter  weariness.  He  was  very 
hot,  and  could  take  only  a glass  of  lemonade  to  cool  the 
fever  that  seemed  to  be  burning  in  his  veins.  When  din- 
ner was  served,  he  took  a little  soup,  and  went  directly  to 
bed.  I covered  him  up,  and  tried  to  perform  the  part  of 
nurse  as  well  as  I could,  yet  all  the  while  feeling  most 
painfully  my  utter  helplessness. 

That  night  I was  in  great  anxiety  : for  the  bare  possi- 
bility of  an  illness  on  the  desert  was  enough  to  awaken  the 
most  serious  apprehensions.  Had  I been  the  sick  one, 
my  companion  was  an  experienced  and  skilful  physician, 
and  would  know  what  to  do.  He  too  could  speak  Arabic, 
and  could  give  directions  to  our  men.  I had  just  as  much 
knowledge  of  medicine  as  of  Arabic — that  is  to  say,  I knew 
nothing  of  eitliei’ — while  the  dragoman  and  cook  were  as 
ignorant  as  the  Bedaween  themselves.  The  only  possible 
hope  of  relief  would  be  to  send  to  Gaza,  which  was  four 
days’  march.  Four  days  there  and  four  days  back — eight 
days — that  would  seem  like  an  eternity  while  waiting  on 
the  desert.  In  that  time  all  our  supplies  of  food  would  be 
exhausted,  so  that  we  should  be  in  danger  of  dying  by  - 
starvation,  if  we  did  not  by  fever.  We  were  in  a spot 
where  we  could  not  get  a drop  of  water  for  ourselves  or 
our  camels.  One  shudders  to  think  what  might  happen 
in  such  a time ! But  thanks  to  the  sick  man’s  skilful 
treatment  of  himself,  the  night  passed  with  no  increase  of 
fever. 

The  next  morning  we  did  not  strike  our  tents  at  sunrise, 
and  yet  somehow  that  horn-  always  gave  me  a touch  of 


244 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


fever — a fever  to  which  I am  subject,  the  fever  of  impa- 
tience. Nothing  chafes  me  like  forced  inaction.  After 
walking  out  to  look  at  the  clouds,  which  were  threaten- 
ing, I returned  to  the  tent  to  find  my  friend  still  very 
weak.  What  should  be  done?  Should  he  rest  here  for 
the  day,  or  make  a staid,  even  if  he  could  go  only  a short 
distance  ? At  last  he  rose  heavily  and  wearily,  and  brac- 
ing himself  with  a strong  dose  of  quinine,  mounted  his 
camel.  As  soon  as  he  was  in  the  saddle,  his  spirits  began 
to  rise.  The  fresh  air  and  the  motion  gave  him  new  life. 
But  wbat  relieved  my  fears  was  to  see  his  old  passiqn  for 
flowers  kindle  at  the  sight  of  some  new  specimens  which 
he  could  gather  for  his  collection  of  the  Flora  of  the 
Desert.  He  could  not  resist  the  attraction  of  a new  plant, 
and  I verily  believe,  if  he  had  been  in  articulo  mortis,  that 
the  sight  of  a new  flower  brought  to  his  bedside  would 
have  caused  a smile  of  satisfaction  to  spread  over  his 
dying  features.  Of  course  I took  courage  from  seeing 
him  revive,  and  from  the  rebound  of  feeling,  entered  with 
new  joy  into  the  scenes  that  opened  before  us.  As  we 
rose  upon  a ridge  that  divided  two  wadies,  there  was  a 
view  of  mountains  in  the  distance  that  was  so  striking  that 
I reined  in  my  camel  to  take  a long  and  steady  look,  and 
then  called  the  cameleer  to  hold  her  till  I could  put  down 
some  notes,  as  an  artist  takes  a hurried  sketch  of  a scene 
which  he  fears  will  escape  him  forever.  Many  of  the  notes 
here  written  out  were  thus  taken  on  the  back  of  my  camel. 
If  they  have  any  merit,  it  is  because  they  were  taken  on 
the  spot,  and  reproduce,  as  nearly  as  it  is  in  my  power  to 
do  it,  the  exact  scenes  and  impressions  of  the  moment. 

At  noon  we  halted  beside  a spring,  which  is  supposed 
by  some  explorers  to  be  the  Fountain  of  Hagar,  perhaps 
because  it  is  the  only  one  found  in  the  region.  It  was  the 
first  time  we  had  seen  a drop  of  water  since  we  left  Nukhl, 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


245 


and  this  was  the  third  day’s  march.  The  mere  suggestion 
is  a touching  one  : for  in  ail  the  mournful  tales  of  the  des- 
ert, none  is  sadder  than  the  story  of  Hagar,  driven  from 
the  tent  of  Abraham,  and  fleeing  with  her  child  into  the 
wilderness,  and  there  ready  to  perish  with  thirst,  when 
saved  by  a spring  that  burst  forth  in  the  sand,  perhaps  the 
same  which  was  now  bubbling  up  at  our  feet. 

This  afternoon  we  passed  over  a succession  of  barren 
hills,  the  very  abomination  of  desolation.  But  no  matter, 
every  step  that  we  take  brings  us  nearer  home ! Already 
my  friend  sees,  though  afar  off,  the  signs  of  change.  When 
he  first  came  upon  the  squill  plant,  he  could  not  restrain 
his  excitement.  “ That  plant,”  he  said,  “ is  never  found 
except  near  the  sea,  or  at  least  within  the  reach  of  the  salt 
ah'.  We  are  approaching  the  Mediterranean.  It  may  be 
yet  fifty  or  sixty  miles  off,  but  we  are  getting  near  it.” 
How  delightful  is  this  enthusiasm  of  the  man  of  science, 
which  can  make  him  forget  illness  and  the  fatigues  of  the 
desert ! 

But  here  the  enthusiasm  of  the  botanist  outwent  the 
strength  of  the  man,  and  that  night  when  we  reached 
camp,  after  ten  hours’  march,  I feared  he  would  break 
down  utterly.  There  was  a deep  sadness  in  his  tone  as  he 
said  : “ If  I am  not  better  to-morrow,  I cannot  move.”  I 
never  passed  a night  of  greater  anxiety  in  my  life.  All 
the  horrors  of  the  situation  came  upon  me.  I imagined 
myself  arriving  at  Gaza  alone,  obliged  to  telegraph  to 
Beirut  and  to  Florence  that  my  companion  had  died  on 
the  desert ! These  may  seem  wild  imaginings,  born  of 
anxiety  and  fear  ; but  let  any  man  be  thus  alone  with  a 
sick  friend  in  the  heart  of  the  desert,  and  see  if  his 
thoughts  are  not  as  black  as  the  midnight  above  his  tent. 

The  morning  found  him  in  no  condition  to  move.  “ If 
I were  at  home,”  he  said,  “ I should  not  only  not  leave  my 


246 


THE  OLD  SHEIKH. 


house,  I should  not  leave  my  bed.”  The  day  opened  dark 
and  dreary  ; there  were  clouds  all  round  the  horizon,  and 
a storm  seemed  to  he  coming  on.  Under  that  lowering 
sky,  to  put  a sick  man  on  a camel  for  a day’s  march 
seemed  like  madness,  and  yet  there  was  almost  equal 
danger  in  lingering  here.  We  had  to  decide  promptly. 
Bad  as  the  case  was,  I insisted  that  we  must  start  and  go 
as  far  as  we  could.  I do  not  think  he  would  have  raised 
his  head  from  the  pillow  that  day  if  he  had  not  seen  the 
look  on  my  face.  But  seeing  in  me  something  which 
seemed  to  speak  of  a desperate  necessity,  he  rose  up  once 
more  as  if  to  take  his  last  ride.  How  he  went  through 
that  day,  I can  only  explain  by  this,  that  on  the  desert,  as 
on  the  sea,  men  “ cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  troubles,  and 
He  bringeth  them  out  of  their  distresses.” 

All  the  morning  we  were  looking  for  rain.  By  the 
rules  of  storms  it  ought  to  have  rained.  The  Doctor 
proved  it,  (a  man  of  science  is  nothing  if  not  scientific,) 
for  he  had  a perfect  theory  of  storms.  He  took  the  map, 
and  showed  how  the  hot  air  of  Africa,  coming  from  the 
Sahara,  strikes  the  Mediterranean,  and  drinks  up  clouds 
full  of  rain,  which  descend  on  the  neighboring  coasts. 
We  were  now  in  the  rainy  belt,  and  by  good  right  it 
should,  would,  and  must  rain.  So  we  should  have  had  it 
if  the  elements  had  done  their  duty.  I rallied  him  pleas- 
antly for  his  confident  prediction,  too  happy  if  I could 
bring  a smile  on  his  dear,  sad  face.  For  my  paid,  I pre- 
ferred to  walk  by  faith  and  sight,  instead  of  theory,  and 
not  flee  before  the  storm  until  it  came ; and  as  a land 
Providence  would  have  it,  in  an  hour  or  two  the  sky 
cleared,  and  we  had  a beautiful  day,  all  the  better  for  the 
clouds  that  tempered  the  heat  of  the  sun. 

And  now  at  last  we  were  rewarded  for  our  perseverance 
in  the  march.  The  character  of  the  country  changed.  We 


ILLNESS  ON  THE  DESERT. 


2±7 


were  coming  up  out  of  the  desert  : we  were  getting  nearer 
the  sea.  These  great  ridges  of  sand  are  the  dunes  of  a sea 
coast.  Indeed  the  dear  Doctor  traced  them  farther — to 
the  same  Sahara  which  is  the  source  of  storms,  from  which 
they  are  blown  into  the  sea,  and  earned  along  by  currents 
setting  eastward  to  the  southern  bend  of  the  coast  of  the 
Mediterranean,  where,  washed  up  on  the  shore  and  dried 
by  the  sun,  they  are  again  lifted  by  the  winds,  and  borne 
thus  far  into  the  interior. 

In  the  afternoon  we  came  into  a broad  land,  not  cut  up 
by  naiTow  wadies — a wide,  open,  rolling  country,  of  long 
sweeps  and  gentle  undulations,  that  might  be  as  beautiful 
as  the  breezy  downs  of  England,  if  only  these  were  clothed 
with  vegetation.  That  too  increases  : it  is  more  to-day 
than  since  we  entered  the  Desert  of  the  Wandering. 
Flowers  bloom  more  abundantly.  The  eye  of  my  friend 
gleamed  with  pleasure  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  lily,  or 
asphodel,  and  of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem.  We  are  now 
fairly  in  the  South  Country,  the  portion  of  Canaan  set 
apart  to  the  tribe  of  Simeon,  where,  although  the  patches 
of  cultivation  are  as  yet  few  and  scattered,  there  is  good 
pasture-ground  for  flocks  and  herds.  And  so  He  who  led 
the  Israelites  across  the  Great  and  Terrible  Wilderness, 
has  now,  over  the  same  burning  desert-,  brought  Wo  weary 
pilgrims  to  the  borders  of  the  Promised  Land. 


CHAPTEB  xym. 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 

Ever  since  we  left  Nukhl,  we  liad  had  occasional  hints 
from  our  dragoman  that  by-and-by  we  should  get  into  a 
region  in  which  it  might  not  be  quite  as  smooth  sailing  as 
on  the  desert,  where  we  had  seen  no  man  in  five  days. 
But  as  he  was  a timid  and  fearful  soul,  we  attached  little 
weight  to  his  dismal  forebodings.  Had  he  not  told  us  a 
story  to  make  our  hair  stand  on  end,  about  flying  ser- 
pents that  we  should  find  at  Nukhl  : how  once,  when  he 
camped  on  the  plain,  he  had  heard  them  whizzing  past 
him  ? Possibly  there  may  have  been  some  foundation  for 
the  story  in  the  existence  of  reptiles  of  such  powerful 
spring  as  to  throw  themselves  several  lengths,  but  we  saw 
no  more  of  them  than  of  the  fiery  serpents  that  infested 
the  camp  of  Moses.  However,  much  as  we  were  disposed 
to  laugh  at  his  fears,  we  had  observed,  as  we  met  several 
parties  going  Southward  with  camels  heavily  laden  with 
supplies  for  the  Convent  at  Mount  Sinai,  that  they  always 
went  in  large  bodies,  as  if  for  mutual  protection,  and  were 
told  that  whenever  there  was  a small  party,  it  took  the  old 
caravan  route  by  the  sea,  to  avoid  the  tribes  through  which 
we  were  now  to  pass. 

The  bare  suggestion  of  robbers  was  of  a kind  to  keep 
our  faculties  awake  and  our  eyes  open,  to  recognize  any 
strangers  who  might  present  themselves  to  offer  the  com- 
pliments of  the  season.  Having  received  these  intima- 
tions, it  was  natural  to  connect  with  them  certain  casual 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


249 


meetings,  which  might  in  other  circumstances  lead  to  a 
closer  acquaintance.  The  day  that  we  entered  the  South 
Country,  several  such  appeared,  who  had  nothing  in  par- 
ticular to  say,  but  who  seemed  to  scan  our  party  with  an 
eye  to  business.  One  savage-looking  fellow  followed  the 
dragoman  and  myself  some  distance,  as  we  had  dismount- 
ed from  our  camels,  and  were  walking  in  the  rear  of  the 
train.  He  was  well  armed,  and  as  I looked  back  over  my 
shoulder,  I had  the  pleasing  consciousness  that  he  was  a 
robber,  who,  if  I had  been  alone,  might  have  entered  at 
once  on  the  practice  of  his  profession.  Perhaps  he  was 
merely  a scout  for  some  larger  party — “prospecting/’  as 
miners  would  say — taking  in  the  situation  so  as  to  report 
to  his  master  ; or  ready,  if  a good  chance  offered,  to  do  a 
little  stroke  of  business  “ on  his  own  hook.”  After  following 
us  an  hour,  he  rode  off,  whether  to  report  to  some  robber- 
chief  that  the  Howadjis  were  coming,  we  could  not  tell, 
though  we  had  our  suspicions  the  next  day. 

That  night  the  dragoman  informed  us  that  we  were 
now  fairly  in  the  enemy’s  country,  and  must  set  a watch 
for  the  night.  It  was  the  first  time  since  leaving  Suez  that 
we  had  found  such  precautions  necessary,  though  the  officer 
in  command  at  Nukhl  had  sent  a file  of  soldiers  to  mount 
guard  before  our  tents.  We  knew  that  there  were  Beda- 
ween  in  the  neighborhood  : for  some  of  our  party  saw  at  a 
distance  the  smoke  of  a camp-fire,  and  scarcely  had  we 
pitched  our  tents  before  we  heard  on  a hill  not  far  away 
the  barking  of  a dog ! How  that  sound  startled  us  m the 
silence  of  the  wilderness ! This,  we  thought,  did  not  come 
from  an  encampment,  but  from  a village,  as  we  had  seen  in 
the  afternoon  children  driving  little  donkeys  loaded  with 
water-skins,  which  they  had  filled  at  some  spring.  We  saw 
also  a small  patch  of  cultivated  ground.  These  signs  of  hab- 
itation raised  a mingled  feeling  : for  we  knew  not  whether 


250 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


the  strangers  were  friends  or  foes.  We  endeavored  to  con- 
ceal our  presence  as  well  as  we  could,  camping  in  a little 
liollow  between  two  ridges  of  the  undulating  country.  As 
soon  as  dinner  was  served,  the  fires  were  put  out,  so  as  not 
to  attract  the  notice  of  spies  or  of  strolling  parties,  and 
then  the  men  turned  their  attention  to  making  all  fast  for 
the  night.  The  dragoman  sought  to  quiet  our  apprehen- 
sion by  saying  that  the  Bedaween  would  not  be  likely 
to  attack  so  large  a party,  and  in  any  event  would  not 
be  so  eager  to  rob  us  as  to  rob  our  Arabs  : for  that  they 
would  covet  the  camels  more  than  our  worldly  goods.  But 
that  was  a very  poor  way  of  reassuring  us  : for  we  could 
much  better  afford  to  lose  our  money  or  our  watches  than 
our  beasts  of  burden,  which  furnished  our  only  means  of 
getting  through  the  country.  To  lose  them  would  be  a 
terrible  blow,  as  it  would  leave  us  on  the  border  of  the 
desert,  without  any  power  of  locomotion.  So  the  camels 
were  to  be  guarded  as  our  very  life.  The  men  understood 
the  matter  perfectly,  and  did  not  mean  to  leave  anything 
exposed.  Accordingly,  although  the  camels  were  turned 
loose  to  crop  the  scanty  herbage  for  an  hour,  while  the 
men  were  getting  their  supper,  instead  of  being  left  out 
as  usual  for  the  night,  they  were  all  brought  into  camp, 
and  stretching  themselves  on  the  ground,  had  their  legs 
firmly  bound  so  that  they  could  not  move,  unless  an  Arab 
were  to  steal  up  in  the  darkness  like  an  Indian,  and  cut 
the  ropes,  and  “ stampede  ” them  before  an  alarm  could 
be  given,  and  the  men  rallied  for  defence.  To  guard 
against  such  a surprise,  the  men  divided  themselves  into 
two  parties,  which  should  relieve  each  other  through  the 
night.  This  done,  the  dragoman  assumed  a protecting 
and  patronizing  tone  : “ Never  you  fear  ; we  are  used  to 
this  sort  of  thing,  and  will  keep  watch.  You  go  to  bed 
and  sleep  quietly.”  We  did  go  to  bed,  and  slept  off  and 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


251 


on,  though  we  woke  a dozen  times,  and  listened  with  ears 
attent,  hut  heard  nothing  save  the  footsteps  of  our  own 
men,  who  were  creeping  about  like  stealthy  Indians  all 
night  long,  keeping  a sharp  lookout  for  the  approach  of 
any  hostile  party,  and  thus  watching  for  our  safety  as  well 
as  their  own. 

As  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  we  dismissed  our  fears, 
and  smiled  at  the  imaginary  dangers  of  the  night ; and 
Dr.  Post  and  I were  about  to  start  out  as  usual  in  ad- 
vance, he  to  botanize,  and  I to  get  a breath  of  morning  air, 
leaving  the  baggage-camels  to  load  up  and  follow,  when 
poor  Yohanna  came  rushing  after  us,  and  shouting  in  the 
wildest  manner,  “ Gentlemen,  do  not  stir  until  we  are  all 
ready  to  move  together ! You  must  not  venture  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  camp.  "We  have  come  so  far  in  safety; 
do  not  let  us  have  a disaster  at  the  very  end  of  our  jour- 
ney ! ” We  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  rather  to  quiet  him 
than  because  we  saw  any  special  need  of  such  extreme  pre- 
caution. In  a few  minutes  the  pack  camels  were  ready, 
and  we  all  moved  off  in  Indian  file  together. 

The  wisdom  of  his  caution  was  soon  apparent.  As  we 
came  up  out  of  the  hollow  where  our  tents  had  been 
pitched  for  the  night,  we  rose  over  a swell  of  ground 
which  again  subsided  into  a gentle  depression,  only  to  rise 
again  at  the  distance  of  perhaps  a quarter  of  a mile,  like 
the  rise  and  fall  of  a rolling  prairie.  We  had  passed  over 
the  ascent,  and  nearly  crossed  the  valley  between,  the 
Doctor  and  I leading  the  way,  when  suddenly  as  a flash  of 
lightning,  there  sprang  over  the  height  on  the  other  side, 
a party  which  claimed  our  immediate  attention.  It  was 
composed  of  five  men,  two  of  whom  were  mounted  on 
horses  (!) — the  first  we  had  seen  since  we  left  Cairo — and 
three  on  foot.  Instantly  they  threw  themselves  into  posi- 
tion— recalling  to  Dr.  Post  what  he  had  often  seen  in  the 


252 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


war,  when  a skirmish  line  was  thrown  forward  so  that 
each  one  could  support  the  others,  prepared  alike  for 
attack  or  defence.  Two  of  the  men  on  foot  carried  guns, 
one  of  whom  instantly  fell  (of  course,  by  pure  accident) 
behind  a bush,  on  which  he  could  rest  his  musket.  Their 
leader  was  a fierce-looking  son  of  the  desert,  with  all  the 
dashing  air  of  the  daring  brigand.  He  carried  in  his  hand 
a spear,  fifteen  or  sixteen  feet  long,  pointed  at  both  ends. 
They  had  evidently  been  on  the  watch  for  ns,  and  came 
upon  us  with  a spring  and  a bound,  like  a tiger  on  his 
prey.  There  could  be  no  mistake  this  time  ; at  last  we 
were  face  to  face  with  the  robbers ! 

We  drew  up  and  halted.  I was  on  the  side  nearest 
the  chief  of  the  party,  who  darted  at  me  a quick,  eager 
glance,  as  he  rose  on  his  horse  with  uplifted  spear.  I 
turned  to  look  for  our  camels,  which  were  scattered  along 
behind  us.  They  came  on  very  slowly,  lumbering  over  the 
hill ; but  still  they  came,  and  every  moment  brought  them 
nearer.  Ibrahim’s  old  soldier  with  his  rusty  sword  hurried 
up,  as  if  he  smelt  the  battle  from  afar,  and  the  men  with 
their  match-locks  were  close  behind  him.  The  weapons  I 
had  so  much  despised  before,  had  found  their  vocation 
now.  The  robber’s  glance  followed  mine,  and  he  took  in 
the  situation  in  an  instant.  Meanwhile  my  cameleer  had 
left  me  and  advanced  for  a parley,  and  the  two  exchanged 
a few  whispered  words.  It  is  said  the  tribes  have  a sort 
of  freemasonry  among  them,  by  which  a traveller  who  has 
paid  tribute  to  one  (as  we  had  done  when  we  paid  the 
heavy  blackmail  at  Nukhl)  is  allowed  to  pass  through 
another,  unless  the  two  be  at  war.  However  this  may  be, 
any  hospitable  intent  on  the  robber’s  part  was  strength- 
ened by  a sight  of  the  force  he  would  have  to  encounter ; 
and  so,  making  a virtue  of  necessity,  this  gallant  knight  of 
the  road  lowered  his  spear,  and  called  aloud  “ Howadjis ! ” 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


253 


(I  can  hear  his  voice  now)  signifying  with  a majestic  wave 
of  his  hand  that  we  were  at  liberty  to  proceed.  We  did 
not  wait  for  a second  invitation.  The  robber  then  turned 
with  his  attendant  horseman  and  dashed  away,  followed 
by  his  men-at-arms.  I touched  my  hat  to  him  with  all 
the  grace  I could  command,  as  well  pleased  to  give  him 
this  parting  salute  as  if  I had  received  his  most  affectionate 
embrace.  Indeed  I never  said  good-bye  to  a friend  with 
more  pleasure  in  my  life. 

This  whole  scene  had  passed  so  quickly  that  it  was  all 
over  before  we  could  fully  realize  what  it  meant.  We  had 
had  a narrow  escape.  If  we  had  started  from  camp  in 
disregard  of  the  warnings  of  the  dragoman,  and  had  been 
fifteen  minutes  ahead  of  our  convoy,  we  should  have  been 
“ done  for  ” so  neatly  and  quickly  that  we  should  hardly 
have  known  what  had  happened  to  us  till  we  were  left 
by  the  roadside.  I do  not  suppose  we  stood  in  much 
personal  danger — that  is,  unless  we  made  resistance.  The 
Arabs  prefer  not  to  shed  blood,  because  they  have  a mortal 
dread  of  a blood-feud,  which  may  pursue  them  for  years. 
Therefore  they  prefer  not  to  take  life,  if  they  can  avoid  it ; 
but  if  we  had  shown  a sign  of  resistance,  such  as  drawing 
a pistol,  probably  we  should  have  been  killed  on  the  spot. 
If  we  submitted  quietly,  we  should  have  suffered  nothing 
worse  than  the  loss  of  all  we  possessed.  The  robbers 
seem  to  pride  themselves  on  doing  their  work  thoroughly, 
and  will  “ clean  out  ” the  most  plethoric  traveller  in  a way 
/ that  will  leave  him  with  no  temptation  to  extravagance  in 
his’  expenses  for  the  rest  of  his  journey.  They  would  have 
taken  our  money,  watches,  and  probably  most  of  the  gar- 
ments we  wore,  unless  the  stripping  us  would  detain  them 
too  long  till  the  arrival  of  our  party.  Of  course  they  would 
have  seized  the  camels  we  rode  unless  they  feared  that  the 
slow-moving  beasts  would  impede  them  in  their  escape. 


254 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


That  this  is  not  an  exaggerated  impression  of  the  risk 
we  ran,  could  be  shown  by  the  experience  of  any  number 
of  travellers.  When  I was  at  Damascus,  dining  one  day  at 
the  house  of  the  missionary,  Rev.  Mr.  Crawford,  he  related 
his  experience.  It  was  in  the  Summer-time,  and  his  family 
were  away  from  the  city  at  a retreat  in  the  mountains, 
where  he  was  to  join  them,  and  for  the  pleasure  of  the  ex- 
cursion had  started  on  foot.  Stopping  for  a few  minutes  at 
a spring  by  the  wayside,  suddenly  a party  of  Bedaween  came 
upon  him,  and  seizing  him  roughly,  demanded  “Where’s 
your  money  ? ” That  taken,  they  relieved  him  of  his  watch, 
and  then  began  to  disrobe  him,  one  taking  his  hat  and  an- 
other his  coat.  When  it  came  to  his  waistcoat,  he  mildly 
remonstrated,  saying  that  “ it  would  be  of  no  use  to  them, 
and  they  had  better  leave  it  to  him,”  to  which  one  replied  by 
striking  him  on  the  mouth.  By  this  time  he  was  in  a dilapi- 
dated condition,  when  one  came  up,  and  seeing  that  he  still 
had  shoes  on  his  feet,  ordered  him  to  take  them  off.  If  any 
fiery  but  foolish  American  wonders  how  he  could  submit  to 
this  without  resistance,  I answer,  The  robbers  were  fifteen 
to  one,  and  this  submission  was  his  only  safety.  He  said 
“ I generally  carried  a revolver  on  such  excursions,  but  this 
time  I had  left  it  at  home,  and  to  this  probably  I owed  my  life. 
If  I had  had  it,  the  impulse  would  have  been  to  seize  it  and 
fire,  when  I should  have  been  run  through  the  body  in  an 
instant.”  As  it  was,  his  life  was  spared,  and  they  left,  as 
garments  to  cover  him,  his  shirt,  pantaloons,  and  stockings ! 
All  this  scene  took  place  near  a threshing-floor,  where  men 
were  working,  but  who  did  not  dare  to  interfere.  As  soon 
as  the  robbers  were  gone,  they  took  pity  on  him  who  had 
fallen  among  thieves,  and  let  him  sleep  on  their  threshing- 
floor,  and  provided  him  in  the  morning  with  an  Arab  cos- 
tume, which  he  put  on,  and  a few  hours  after  presented  him- 
self to  his  wife  arrayed  as  she  had  never  seen  him  before. 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


255 


Philosophizing  a little,  as  I am  apt  to  do,  on  my  varied 
experiences  “ as  I walk  through  the  wilderness  of  this 
world,”  I find  that  this  business  of  robbing,  as  practised 
by  the  Bedaween,  is  not  from  the  love  of  violence  for  its 
own  sake,  nor  the  act  of  specially  wicked  natures,  as  might 
be  similar  crimes  committed  in  civilized  society,  but  is 
grounded  in  a deep  philosophy.  Every  man,  civilized 
or  savage,  has  a theory  of  life,  written  or  unwritten,  and 
the  theory  of  the  Bedawee  is  that  no  man  has  a right  to 
property  which  he  is  bound  to  respect.  It  may  be  best 
not  to  press  his  prior  claim  ; it  may  be  prudent  to  keep  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  law  ; but  if  a good  opportunity  presents 
itself,  he  is  restrained  by  no  conscientious  scruple.  Might 
makes  right,  and  he 

Follows  the  good  old  plan, 

That  he  should  take  who  has  the  power. 

And  he  should  keep  who  can. 

The  Arab  makes  a fine  distinction  between  stealing 
and  robbing.  He  is  not  a thief,  and  you  cannot  offer 
him  a greater  insult  than  by  making  such  a suggestion. 
If  you  were  to  fling  such  a taunt  in  the  face  of  a proud 
sheikh,  he  would  very  likely  answer  you  with  the  point  of 
his  spear.  A thief  is  one  who  creeps  behind  your  back, 
or  into  your  tent,  and  rifles  your  pockets — a practice  to 
which  the  low,  base-born  Fellah  might  stoop,  but  which 
the  proud  Bedawee  would  scorn.  He  is  a lofty,  high- 
minded  robber,  who  meets  you  on  the  desert  face  to  face, 
and  if  he  attacks  you,  gives  you  the  opportunity  to  defend 
yourself,  and  if  he  despoils  you,  it  is  by  a right  which  is 
recognized  in  all  nations,  the  right  of  the  strongest.  He 
takes  your  goods,  but  he  takes  them  in  open  and  honorable 
battle. 

Of  course,  we  might  say  that  our  knight  of  the  road 
who  met  us  this  morning,  took  us  at  a disadvantage,  com- 


256 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


ing  upon  us  alone  and  unarmed,  while  lie  and  his  men 
were  armed  to  the  teeth.  But  he  would  answer  “ Why 
were  you  not  armed  ? It  is  the  business  of  every  man  to 
be  ready  to  defend  himself  on  all  occasions,  and  if  he  is 
not,  and  suffers  for  it,  he  has  nobody  but  himself  to 
blame.” 

With  such  a theory,  it  is  not  strange  that  robbery 
should  be  regarded  not  only  as  honorable,  but  as  above  all 
others  the  profession  of  a gentleman,  as  is  the  profession 
of  arms  in  civilized  countries.  The  Bedaween  hire  the 
Fellaheen  to  cultivate  their  fields — that  is  work  fit  for 
slaves  ; but  for  the  chief  of  a tribe,  the  one  pursuit  in  life 
that  fires  his  ambition  is  to  mount  the  finest  Arabian  steed, 
to  poise  the  longest  and  sharpest  lance,  and  ride  abroad, 
like  a knight  of  chivalry,  in  search  of  adventures.  When 
one  thinks  of  all  this,  he  must  feel  that  it  would  be  almost 
an  honor  to  be  robbed  by  such  a hero ! 

And  yet  I fear  our  dragoman  did  not  take  this  view  of 
the  case  : for  the  incident  of  this  morning  produced  a 
deep  impression  on  him,  and  he  renewed  his  entreaties  to 
us  to  keep  together.  But  it  was  hard  to  keep  Dr.  Post  in 
line  : for  just  then  he  spied  some  of  the  wild  flowers  of 
Palestine,  and  at  once  gave  a dig  at  his  camel,  and  started 
off  in  pursuit.  The  vicious  old  creature  did  not  appreciate 
the  claims  of  science,  and  roared  her  disapprobation.  But 
her  master  forced  her  on,  and  then  brought  her  back,  and 
we  straggled  on  together.  Our  attention  was  soon  diverted 
to  the  beauty  of  the  country  we  were  entering.  The  bills 
broadened  down  and  the  valleys  rose,  till  the  undulations 
were  like  the  long  swells  of  the  ocean.  Gradually  the 
landscape  assumed  an  aspect  of  fertility.  Rising  over  a 
gentle  ascent,  behold  a field  of  barley  that  was  fresh  and 
green ! How  beautiful  it  looked  in  contrast  with  the  deso- 
lation over  which  we  had  passed  ! There  were  also  more 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


257 


signs  of  human  habitation,  in  frequent  clusters  of  the 
black  tents  of  the  Arabs.  We  were  now  descending  from 
the  hills  to  the  plains.  Far  behind  us  was  the  range  which 
bounded  the  Desert  of  the  Wandering,  while  before  us 
opened  the  great  Plain  of  Philistia.  My  companion  was 
full  of  the  history,  as  well  as  of  the  flora,  of  this  region. 
“We  are  now  entering,”  he  said,  “ one  of  the  great  histori- 
cal plains  of  the  world — one  which  has  been  trodden  by  all 
the  conquerors  from  Alexander  to  Napoleon.  And  long 
before  Alexander,  Cambyses  the  Persian  crossed  this  plain 
to  invade  Egypt  ; and  marching  the  other  way,  came  the 
armies  of  Pharaoh  Necho,  to  invade  Syria.  And  so  back 
and  forth  has  the  wave  of  conquest  flowed  and  reflowed 
between  Asia  and  Africa — between  the  empires  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tigris  and  the  Euphrates,  and  that  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile.” 

So  discoursed  my  friend  while  I listened  with  eager 
interest,  so  absorbed  that  I did  not  notice  that  we  had  got 
a mile  ahead  of  the  greater  part  of  our  camels,  when  we 
heard  behind  us  a voice  shouting  and  a man  running 
toward  us.  Fearing  that  some  accident  had  happened  to 
our  baggage  train,  we  waited  till  he  should  come  up. 
When  he  appeared,  I perceived  that  he  was  a huge  negro, 
with  teeth  that  were  like  tusks,  and  who  had  altogether  a 
repulsive  aspect,  like  one  of  those  brutish-looking  creatures 
that  may  now  and  then  be  seen  guarding  the  harems  of 
Cairo  and  Constantinople.  As  soon  as  he  came  up,  he  signi- 
fied by  loud  voice  and  vehement  gestures  that  we  could  not 
proceed  any  further  ; that  we  were  now  in  the  territory  of 
another  tribe,  and  could  not  pass  without  paying  tribute  ; 
and  not  to  be  too  modest  about  it,  said  that  we  must  hand 
over  a hundred  pounds ! As  soon  as  the  dragoman  and 
our  two  cameleers  learned  his  errand,  they  seized  him,  and 
I thought  would  choke  him.  But  the  strength  was  not  to 


258 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


be  all  on  one  side.  At  once  the  negro  threw  up  the  skirt 
of  his  garment  as  a signal  to  his  comrades,  who  were  close 
at  hand — for  we  were  but  a few  hundred  yards  from  an 
Arab  village — and  they  came  rushing  out  in  great  num- 
bers. The  matter  began  to  look  serious.  Loud  words 
and  fierce  gestures  might  lead  to  blows,  and  as  both  sides 
were  armed,  there  might  be  bloodshed.  Dr.  Post  reined 
up  close  beside  me  and  whispered,  “ Keep  perfectly  cool. 
Do  not  dismount.  If  there  must  be  a fight,  let  them  fight 
it  out  among  themselves ; but  on  no  account  get  off  your 
camel.”  This  was  good  advice,  but  not  so  easy  to  follow : 
for  the  black  fellow,  set  on  by  others,  seized  our  camels  by 
the  halters,  and  dragged  them  to  the  ground  ; but  we 
kept  our  seats,  and  hitting  them  a cut  with  our  whips, 
they  sprang  up  again.  This  performance  was  repeated  a 
number  of  times.  The  other  side  appeared  to  be  divided. 
Some  were  willing  to  let  us  pass,  and  motioned  to  us 
to  go  on,  though  at  the  same  time  they  held  up  their 
hands  in  token  that  a slight  douceur  would  be  acceptable. 
But  the  black  fellow,  supported  by  others,  was  obstinate, 
and  again  and  again  seized  our  camels  and  dragged  them 
to  the  ground.  Our  impulse  was  to  strike  him  in  the  face 
with  our  whips,  but  as  that  might  have  brought  on  a gen- 
eral combat,  we  thought  it  more  prudent  to  hold  in  our 
wrath  till  our  baggage  train  appeared.  At  last  it  came  up, 
and  our  men  mingled  in  the  fray.  Our  old  soldier,  who 
had  lost  his  chance  three  hours  before,  was  now  like  an 
Irishman  “ spoiling  for  a fight.”  Our  men  gathered  round 
us,  and  kept  the  crowd  at  bay,  while  they  pushed  us  along. 
Meanwhile  our  dragoman,  who  was  always  for  peaceable 
measures,  even  at  some  sacrifice  of  dignity,  was  cajoled 
into  going  off  to  the  tent  of  one  of  the  head  men  of  the 
tribe,  to  whom  he  gave  some  paltry  backsheesh  to  be  dis- 
tributed among  the  ruffians,  for  which  Dr.  Post  rebuked 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


259 


him  severely.  As  soon  as  there  was  a break  in  the  crowd, 
we  pushed  through,  and  urging  on  our  camels,  at  last  got 
clear.  As  he  saw  us  making  our  escape,  the  negro  cried 
out  almost  piteously,  “Are  you  not  going  to  give  us 
anything ?”  “Not  the  mother  of  a para,”  said  the  Doctor 
(the  para  being  the  smallest  of  coins),  and  so  we  came  off 
victorious.  The  whole  scene  lasted  half  an  hour,  and  was 
very  exciting  and  threatening ; but  we  felt  a satisfaction 
in  the  fact  that  we  did  not,  for  a-  single  moment,  lose  our 
self-possession  ; that  we  did  not  once  dismount  from  our 
camels,  and  did  not  give  the  rascals  a penny  ! But  what 
an  idea  it  gave  us  of  the  barbarism  that  prowls  on  the 
very  borders  of  civilization  : for  we  were  no  longer  in  the 
desert,  but  in  Palestine — in  the  very  Pashalic  of  Jeru- 
salem ! 

So  we  were  getting  on.  We  had  wished  for  an  adven- 
ture, and  now  we  were  gratified.  To  be  stopped  on  the 
road  twice  in  one  forenoon,  was  something  new  in  our 
experience.  However,  there  is  nothing  like  being  used  to 
it.  Half  an  hour  after  all  this  excitement  we  were  seated 
under  a bank  in  the  dry  bed  of  a watercourse,  taking  our 
luncheon,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

Thus  refreshed,  we  climbed  up  out  of  this  river  bed 
and  came  on  a broad  upland,  which  presented  an  aspect 
of  fertility  that  struck  us  with  astonishment,  coming  from 
the  long  wastes  of  the  desert.  Our  afternoon’s  ride  lay 
through  a land  of  plenty — a land  flowing  with  milk  and 
honey.  I can  hardly  describe  the  pleasure  I felt  at  the 
first  sight  of  a cow ! I wanted  to  stroke  her  and  pet  her. 
Mingled  with  the  herds  of  camels  was  an  occasional  herd 
of  asses,  and  what  interested  me  much  more  were  the  beau- 
tiful herds  of  horses,  for  this  South  Country  is  a favoiite 
region  for  raising  the  finest  breeds  of  pure  ‘-Arabians.” 
As  a relief  to  the  long  monotony  of  black  goats,  there  were 


260 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


large  flocks  of  sheep,  of  the  breed  known  by  the  enormous 
size  and  fatness  of  their  tails.  The  country  generally  was 
cultivated.  The  soil  was  light  and  thin,  owing  to  a lack  of 
care  in  husbandry,  but  still  it  was  waving  with  harvests. 
Whichever  way  we  turned  (except  south) — north,  east, 
and  west — we  saw  the  wide,  open,  rolling  slopes  standing 
thick  with  wheat  and  barley.  Between  the  upland  pas- 
tures clothed  with  flocks,  were  the  valleys  covered  over 
with  corn.  That  evening,  as  we  stood  at  the  door  of  our 
tent  and  looked  towards  the  sunset,  and  over  the  varied 
landscapes  which  were  touched  with  the  light  of  departing 
day,  we  had  to  confess  that  we  had  rarely  beheld  a scene 
of  greater  natural  beauty.  But  for  the  absence  of  trees, 
we  might  have  been  in  one  of  the  finest  parts  of  England. 

We  camped  to-night,  not,  as  the  night  before,  in  a 
hollow,  to  lie  hidden  from  observation,  for  there  were 
too  many  Arabs  near  us  to  render  concealment  possible, 
(we  could  see  their  black  tents  and  hear  the  barking  of 
their  dogs,)  but  on  a gentle  swell  of  ground,  from  which 
we  had  an  unbroken  sweep  all  around  the  horizon. 

Hardly  were  the  tents  pitched  before  we  had  our  sym- 
pathies greatly  excited  by  an  incident  of  the  day.  When 
we  had  resumed  our1  march,  our  old  soldier  was  missing, 
and  did  not  appear  the  whole  afternoon.  At  night  he 
came  into  camp  mad  with  grief  and  rage.  It  appeared 
that  in  the  melee  he  had  had  his  sword  taken  from  him, 
and  though  he  went  back  for  it,  he  could  not  recover  it. 
The  poor  old  man  was  in  despair.  It  was  a matter  that 
touched  his  honor.  The  weapon  itself  was  of  little  value, 
and  I would  have  gladly  given  him  another  and  much 
better  one.  But  that  was  not  the  same  thing.  This  was 
the  badge  of  his  military  profession,  the  sign  that  he  had 
been  in'the  wars,  when  he  followed  the  great  Ibrahim  in 
his  conquest  of  Spaa.  But  we  comforted  him  with  the 


PERILS  AMONG  ROBBERS. 


261 


hope  that  on  his  return  he  might  resume  his  search  with 
better  success. 

After  we  had  smoothed  the  ruffled  plumage  of  the 
warrior  of  our  camp,  we  gave  ourselves  up  to  the  peace 
of  the  hour.  The  night  was  beautiful ; the  firmament  was 
glorious  with  stars  : never  had  they  shone  more  brilliantly 
in  all  our  wanderings  on  the  desert.  We  stood  as  it  were 
on  the  top  of  the  round  world,  over  which  the  heavens  were 
bending  for  protection.  It  seemed  as  if  a spot  thus  heaven- 
enclosed  must  be  intended  only  for  the  abode  of  purity  and 
peace  ; as  if  this  must  be  a world  where  sin  and  sorrow 
could  not  come  ; where  man  could  not  lift  his  hand  against 
his  brother  ; and  there  was  no  such  thing  as  robbery  and 
crime. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 

Although  we  had  passed  a quiet  night,  our  experiences 
of  the  preceding  day  had  not  been  of  a character  to  make 
us  wish  to  prolong  our  slumbers  far  into  the  morning.  I 
was  up  at  half-past  four,  which  was  generally  understood 
in  the  camp  to  mean  that  there  was  no  more  rest  for  man 
or  beast.  By  six  o’clock  we  had  had  our  breakfast,  the 
tents  were  struck,  and  we  were  in  the  saddle.  The  sun 
was  just  rising  over  the  vast  undulating  plains  as  we  set 
out  on  our  march.  Who  would  not  lise  early  for  the  exhil- 
aration of  such  a morning  ride  ? We  were  approaching  the 
end  of  our  journey  ; our  long  and  toilsome  marches  were 
nearly  ended  ; the  Desert  was  behind  us,  and  the  Land  of 
Promise  was  before  us. 

I have  spent  between  four  and  five  years  of  my  life  in 
foreign  countries — a portion  of  the  time  in  distant  parts 
of  the  earth — and  have  had  many  and  varied  experiences, 
but  nothing  I think  that  imparted  a sensation  quite  so 
exquisite  as  this  coming  up  out  of  the  desert — out  of  void 
and  vacancy,  out  of  vast  spaces  and  solemn  silences — into 
the  world  of  life  and  sound  and  motion.  The  return  is 
very  gradual.  Nature  gives  signs  of  the  coming  change  by 
an  occasional  quiver  in  her  trame  ; perchance  a rill  trick- 
ling in  the  sands  marks  where  the  life-current  is  flowing 
faintly  in  her  veins  ; then  a new  vegetation  shows  itself,  as 
familiar  flowers  peep  out  by  the  way,  and  the  small  grasses 
begin  to  appear — tokens  of  a new  existence  into  which  we 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


2G3 


are  entering  ; we  seem  to  be  getting  nearer  to  the  heart  of 
things,  to  the  warm  beginnings  of  life ; the  earth  is  not 
dead,  but  sleepeth  ; it  begins  to  breathe  with  the  breath  of 
God. 

Then  there  is  a tender  vibration  in  the  world  of  sound  ; 
the  note  of  a bird,  faint  as  if  she  hardly  dared  to  hear  the 
voice  of  her  own  singing,  quivers  for  an  instant  in  the  deep 
solitude  ; to  which  follow  hours  of  marching,  when  is 
heard  in  the  distance  the  bleating  of  sheep,  and  after 
another  long  march  the  lowing  of  cattle  ; and  then 
“ There  is  a floating  whisper  on  the  hill  ” ; 

there  is  a gentle  murmur  in  the  air  ; and  on  the  straining 
ear  comes  the  sweetest  sound  ever  heard,  that  of  human 
voices  : and  so  we  come  back  into  the  living,  breathing 
world  again. 

I hardly  know  of  anything  to  parallel  this  change,  or 
wherewith  to  compare  it.  It  is  said  that  not  far  above  the 
earth’s  surface  it  is  intensely  cold  and  dark  ; that  the  sun’s 
rays  must  pass  through  the  earth’s  atmosphere  to  give 
forth  light  and  warmth.  So  it  is  that  in  passing  into  this 
new  atmosphere  we  feel  as  if  we  were  entering  “ the  warm 
precincts  of  the  cheerful  day,”  to  quote  that  exquisite  line 
of  Gray’s  Elegy,  which  seems  as  if  written  when  the  poet’s 
eye  was  filled  with  “ the  light  of  setting  suns.”  Indeed  we 
may  quote  the  whole  stanza  in  exact  reverse,  as  giving  the 
perfect  delineation  of  the  change  which  comes  over  us  : 

For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a prey, 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  e’er  resigned. 

Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day, 

Nor  east  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind  ? 

Here  “the  warm  precincts  ” are  not  behind,  but  before; 
the  “ longing  ” is  not  for  that  we  leave,  but  for  that  we 
enter  ; and  we  return  to  “ this  pleasing,  anxious  being,” 
which,  however  troubled  with  care,  still  is  life — life  never 


264 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


so  dear  as  when  we  come  up  out  of  the  desert,  as  out  of 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death. 

To-day  this  feeling  of  a new  existence  was  bounding  in 
our  veins.  Everything  conspired  to  kindle  it — the  dewy 
freshness  of  the  morning  air  ; the  wide,  open,  rolling  coun- 
try, like  the  breezy  downs  of  England.  The  wild  flow- 
ers of  Palestine  were  under  our  feet ; the  birds  were  all 
abroad,  enjoying  the  freshness  of  the  early  Spring-time ; the 
Syrian  lark  rose  fluttering  from  the  ground,  and  sung  her 
sweetest  carol  to  the  coming  day.  This  mingling  of  sights 
and  sounds  and  sweet  fragrances  created  an  intoxication 
of  the  senses,  in  which  we  rode  forward  in  a kind  of 
ecstacy,  when  suddenly  we  heard  behind  us  the  tramp  of 
a horseman  coming  at  hull  speed.  What  could  it  be? 
Another  robber-chieftain  in  swift  pursuit  ? A messenger 
to  forbid  our  passage  through  the  country  ? In  an  instant 
dashed  up  beside  us  a man  of  fine,  even  noble  aspect, 
mounted  on  a beautiful  Arabian  steed.  He  sprang  from 
the  saddle,  and  struck  his  spear  into  the  ground,  and  the 
steed  stood  motionless,  while  his  rider  advanced  toward 
us.  He  was  unarmed  ; he  had  neither  sword  nor  gun — 
nothing  in  his  hand  more  formidable  than  a chibouque. 
We  turned  to  receive  him.  He  presented  himself  with  a 
profound  salaam,  and  no  more  startling  message  than  an 
invitation  to  the  Howadjis  to  do  him  the  honor  to  accom- 
pany him  to  his  tent,  and  join  him  in  his  morning  repast. 
I have  no  doubt  that  he  had  killed  a sheep  to  prepare  us 
a feast.  This  was  a complete  surprise.  Here  indeed  was 
Oriental  hospitality.  We  were  strangers  in  the  land, 
simply  passing  through  it,  and  this  chieftain  (for  such  he 
appeared  to  be)  went  out  of  his  way  to  show  us  courtesy. 
We  responded  with  profuse  acknowledgments  to  the  invi- 
tation, which  in  other  circumstances  we  should  have  been 
delighted  to  accept,  but  explained  that  this  was  our  last 


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265 


day’s  march ; that  we  were  pressing  on  to  Gaza,  in  hope 
to  be  able  to  communicate  with  our  families,  from  whom 
we  had  been  long  separated.  He  listened  with  evident 
regret,  and  still  pressed  us  gently  but  earnestly,  when  sud- 
denly it  dawned  upon  us  that  there  was  a reason  for  this 
extraordinary  urgency.  It  appeared  that  he  was  the  mudir 
of  the  tribe  through  which  we  had  passed  the  day  before, 
and  was  anxious  to  efface  from  our  minds  the  impression 
of  the  little  “ unpleasantness  ” which  had  marred  our  pas- 
sage through  his  territory.  This  occurrence  topched  him 
not  merely  in  his  honor  and  the  honor  of  his  people,  but 
in  another  way.  By  the  Eastern  law,  he  was  responsible 
for  his  tribe,  as  the  father  of  a family  for  his  household. 
If  a crime  is  committed,  and  the  offender  cannot  be  found 
or  brought  to  justice,  the  chief  of  the  tribe  may  be  held 
responsible.  But  if  he  could  have  beguiled  us  to  his  tent 
• — if  we  had  once  broken  bread  and  eaten  salt  with  him — 
that  would  have  condoned  the  offence,  and  we  should  have 
been  estopped  from  seeking  other  reparation.  When  we 
discovered  this,  Dr.  Post  took  a different  tone.  Though 
still  polite,  he  gave  the  mudir  to  understand  very  plainly 
that  we  had  suffered  a great  outrage  in  passing  through 
his  territory,  which  ought  to  be  punished  ; that  we  did  not 
wish  to  be  hard  upon  him,  if  he  would  produce  the  real 
offender  ; that,  in  short,  if  he  would  restore  the  money 
which  had  been  extorted  from  our  dragoman,  and  the 
sword  which  had  been  taken  from  our  old  soldier,  and 
more  than  all,  bring  the  black  ruffian,  who  was  the  leader 
in  the  attack,  to  Gaza,  and  deliver  him  up  to  the  authori- 
ties, we  would  take  no  further  measures  ; otherwise  we 
should  be  obliged  to  report  the  matter  to  the  Governor 
immediately  on  our  arrival.  This  was  just  what  he  feared, 
and  he  tried  to  deprecate  our  anger.  He  pleaded  that  the 
man  might  have  escaped,  and  the  sword  be  hidden  so  that 


2G6 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


it  could  not  be  found.  In  such  a case  be  thought  we  ought 
to  show  a little  consideration  and  forbearance.  “ Would  we 
come  to  his  tent  to  talk  it  over  ? ” He  was  very  humble, 
and  came  up  to  my  saddle  and  kissed  my  hand — a great 
act  of  humiliation  for  the  mudir  of  a powerful  tribe.  I felt 
humbled  for  him,  that  he  should  be  so  humbled  before  me, 
and  if  I could  have  followed  my  impulse,  would  have  fallen 
on  his  neck,  and  not  only  forgiven  him,  but  pledged  him 
eternal  friendship.  But  Dr.  Post  insisted  that  this  was  no 
light  matter  ; that  other  travellers  were  exposed  to  the 
same  indignity  and  insult ; and  that  for  their  protection  it 
was  our  duty  to  make  an  example.  I could  but  acknowl- 
edge that  he  was  right  at  least  so  far  as  this,  that  the  man 
should  be  severely  punished.  With  this  stern  sense  of 
duty,  the  Doctor  waved  away  the  proffered  hospitality  as 
if  it  had  been  a guilty  temptation  ; we  resumed  our  march, 
the  camels  took  their  long  strides,  leaving  the  mudir  stand- 
ing in  the  path,  to  return  to  his  tent  “ a sadder  and  a wiser 
man.” 

We  now  quickened  our  steps  across  the  valley,  and  up 
the  hill.  The  view  on  every  side  was  enchanting.  The 
sun  had  just  risen,  but  as  it  was  behind  us,  it  did  not  daz- 
zle us,  but  cast  a soft  light  on  the  green  fields  that  waved 
round  us  like  a sea  ; and  as  it  shone  along  a chain  of 
mountains  on  our  right,  it  brought  out  in  alternate  sun- 
light and  shadow  their  projecting  masses  and  their  more 
retired  recesses.  That  was  the  Hill  Country  of  Palestine ! 
Could  we  but  stand  on  the  top  of  that  ridge,  and  look 
down  on  the  other  slope,  we  should  see  nestled  among 
the  hills  the  city  of  Hebron,  where  David  reigned  seven 
years  before  he  removed  to  Jerusalem,  and  where  an  aged 
tree  still  bears  the  name  of  Abraham’s  oak.  There  is  the 
burying-place  of  the  patriarchs  in  the  Cave  of  Machpelah, 
to  which  Jacob,  dying  in  Egypt,  charged  his  children  to 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


2G7 


carry  his  bones,  saying  “ There  they  buried  Abraham  and 
Sarah  his  wife  ; there  they  buried  Isaac  and  Rebel  ah  his 
wife  ; and  there  I buried  Leah.”  So  near  were  we  in  the 
country  over  which  we  were  passing  to  the  scenes  of  sacred 
history,  and  even  to  patriarchal  times. 

But  our  musings  were  cut  short  by  a sight  which  now 
burst  upon  us  : for  as  we  rose  above  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
before  us  lay  the  Mediterranean  ! We  had  already  snuffed 
the  sea  breeze,  but  now  we  saw  the  great  waters,  the  white 
caps  rolling  in  on  the  long  sandy  beach.  I am  afraid  there 
was  a little  choking  in  the  throat,  and  some  tears  crept 
into  the  eyes,  as  we  beheld  the  sea  which  at  once  separated 
and  united  us  with  the  living  world  to  which  we  belonged. 
On  the  shore  was  a town — the  very  one  which  had  been 
our  destination  ever  since  we  rode  out  of  the  gate  of  the 
Convent  of  Mount  Sinai.  It  was  yet  two  hours  away,  but 
little  mattered  that  since  it  was  in  view,  and  every  step 
brought  us  nearer.  Once  more  trees  appeared  in  the  land- 
scape, and  patches  of  ground  became  more  richly  culti- 
vated. To  open  fields  of  grain  succeeded  orchards  and 
gardens,  divided  by  hedges  of  cactus,  through  which  we 
made  our  way.  As  we  approached  the  city,  the  domes  of 
mosques  rose  into  view,  and  minarets  lifted  their  tall  and 
slender  pinnacles  in  air.  But  suddenly  my  eye  caught 
another  sight,  which  fixed  if  more  than  any  dome  or  min- 
aret— it  was  a line  of  telegraph ! I had  always  thought 
telegraph-poles  the  ugliest  objects  with  which  man  ever 
deformed  the  fair  face  of  nature  ; but  when  I saw  the  slen- 
der line  that  ran  along  their  tops,  and  thought  of  the  mes- 
sages winged  by  lightning  that  flew  over  it,  these  gaunt, 
ungainly  objects  took  a sudden  and  strange  attraction,  and 
I looked  up  to  them  almost  with  reverence  as  the  long  legs 
of  civilization,  with  which  it  goes  striding  over  hill  and 
valley,  over  island  and  continent,  to  unite  together  all  the 


268 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


kindreds  of  mankind.  If  that  first  telegraph-pole  had 
been 

“ The  mast  of  some  great  admiral,” 

or  a flagstaff,  bearing  proudly  the  banner  of  my  country, 
it  could  not  have  sent  a keener  thrill  through  my  heart.  It 
was  the  sign  that  we  were  coming  home  : that  we  were  no 
more  strangers  and  pilgrims,  or  even  exiles,  but  fellow- 
citizens  in  the  great  commonwealth  of  humanity,  which  by 
this  token  seemed  to  open  its  aims  and  receive  us  to  its 
bosom. 

At  the  entrance  of  Gaza  is  an  open  space,  which  is  the 
usual  camping-ground  of  parties,  where  we  left  word  for 
the  baggage-train  to  halt  and  pitch  our  tents,  while  we 
went  forward  into  the  town.  As  we  came  to  the  narrow 
streets,  hardly  wide  enough  for  the  camels,  we  dismounted, 
and  leaving  them  to  the  men,  pushed  forward  in  search 
of  the  telegraph  office.  Following  the  poles,  we  soon 
found  where  the  wires  led  into  a building.  It  was  a 
strange  sensation,  in  coming  out  of  the  desert,  to  be  in 
such  an  office,  and  hear  the  click  of  the  telegraph  again. 
Dr.  Post  found  in  the  operator  a former  pupil  at  Beirut, 
who  received  him  with  great  warmth,  and  took  a personal 
interest  in  hastening  our  messages.  It  was  but  a few  min- 
utes before  his  family  were  informed  of  his  safety.  The 
dragoman  also  sent  a message  to  Jaffa  to  have  horses  and 
mules  sent  down  to  take  us  to  Jerusalem,  for  the  days  of 
our  camel-riding  were  over.  Then  came  my  turn  : “ How 
long  will  it  take  to  get  a message  to  Florence  ? ” “ We  can 

send  it  in  either  of  two  ways — by  Constantinople,  in  which 
case  it  will  reach  Florence  some  time  this  afternoon  ; or  by 
Alexandria,  from  which  it  will  go  by  submarine  cable,  and 
be  subject  to  no  detention,  and  ought  to  arrive  at  the  long- 
est within  an  hour  ; but  a message  by  this  route  costs 
double  that  by  Constantinople.”  “ Never  mind  the  cost  ; 


RETURNING  TO  CIVILIZATION. 


2G9 


send  it  by  the  quickest  way.”  And  the  tidings  of  our 
safety  were  soon  flying  to  Egypt,  and  diving  under  the  sea. 

Then  for  the  first  time  we  had  a moment  of  rest,  and 
set  off  to  find  an  English  clergyman,  Rev.  A.  W.  Schapira, 
whom  Dr.  Post  knew.  We  found  him  at  his  school,  and  he 
gave  us  a welcome  such  as  I have  never  failed  to  receive 
from  missionaries  in  any  part  of  the  world.  “ Where 
are  your  tents  ? ” he  asked.  We  told  him.  “Do  not  stay 
there,  for  you  will  be  surrounded  by  a crowd,  and  may  be 
subjected  to  great  annoyance.  Have  them  pitched  in  my 
garden.”  We  sent  back  a messenger  in  haste,  who  found 
that  the  camels  had  arrived  and  been  unloaded,  and  that 
the  tents  were  already  up  ; but  at  the  word  they  were 
taken  down,  and  the  camels  loaded  up  again,  and  in  an 
hour  they  came  lumbering  into  the  missionary’s  “ com- 
pound,” where  we  could  pass  a Sabbath  in  quietness  and 
peace. 

When  at  last  our  tents  were  pitched,  and  the  camels 
were  stretched  on  the  ground,  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet 
content,  and  the  men  were  round  the  camp-fire  cooking 
their  food,  we  felt  that  we  had  gained  a victory.  We  had 
accomplished  the  object  with  which  we  set  out  from 
Nukhl  on  Monday  morning ; we  had  reached  our  desti- 
nation by  a series  of  forced  marches,  in  spite  of  discon- 
tented men  and  frightened  dragoman  ; in  spite  of  weather, 
of  lowering  clouds,  threatening  cold  and  rain  ; in  spite  of 
sickness  and  of  robbers.  At  last  we  were  safe  ; we  had 
reached  our  desired  haven,  and  looked  back  over  the  long- 
way  as  the  sailor,  hardly  escaped  from  shipwreck,  looks 
back  over  a stormy  ocean. 

Our  journey  ended  to  our  satisfaction,  there  came  the 
settling  of  accounts.  The  old  soldier,  who  was  the  only 
one  of  the  Arabs  that  could  read,  had  been  entrusted  by 
his  master,  the  sheikh,  with  the  contract  and  authority  to 


270 


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receive  the  balance  due  at  the  end,  for  a portion  must 
always  be  kept  back  till  the  journey  is  completed,  lest 
perchance,  finding  that  they  had  all  their  money,  they 
might  leave  us  on  the  desert.  The  agreement  had  now 
been  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  and  the  grizzled  soldier  was 
1 well  pleased  as  the  golden  napoleons  dropped  into  his 
hand ; wl  file  a liberal  backsheesh  distributed  among  the 
men,  made  all  smiling  and  happy. 

The  missionary  now  led  the  way  into  his  house,  which, 
like  all  Eastern  houses,  had  a central  court,  enclosed 
by  a wall,  within  which  the  sound  of  a fountain  gave  a 
delicious  sense  of  coolness  during  the  heats  of  Summer. 
In  the  rooms  all  was  very  plain  and  simple,  and  yet  there 
was  a neatness  and  modest  taste,  that  I have  found  in  all 
parts  of  the  world,  to  mark  the  missionary’s  home,  making 
it  a type  of  Christian  civilization.  Within  is  order,  com- 
fort, and  intelligence,  while  without  is  poverty  and  filth, 
vice  and  degradation,  in  their  most  disgusting  forms. 

Mr.  Schapira  and  his  excellent  wife  kept  us  to  dinner, 
after  which  he  accompanied  us  to  call  on  the  Governor  to 
make  our  complaint  of  the  attempted  robbery.  Jusuf 
Effendi  is  one  of  the  most  enlightened  statesmen  in  Turkey, 
a man  of  European  education,  speaking  both  French  and 
English.  He  was  a member  of  the  “ Parliament  ” which 
the  Sultan  called  after  the  Russian  war,  in  which  he  was 
a leader  of  the  small  party  of  progress  and  reform. 
Indeed  he  was  altogether  too  liberal  for  the  latitude  of 
Constantinople,  for  which  he  received  a kind  of  honorable 
banishment  to  the  small  post  of  Governor  of  Gaza.  But 
his  time  may  yet  come.  He  is  not  a Turk,  but  an  Arab  of 
the  purest  blood,  of  the  tribe  of  the  Koreishites,  in  which 
Mahomet  himself  was  born.  Should  there  rise  up  in  the 
Empire  an  Arab  party  as  opposed  to  the  Turkish,  there  will 
again  be  an  opportunity  for  his  great  abilities.  It  was 


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271 


quite  an  Oriental  scene  as  we  entered  the  Serai,  the 
Governor’s  residence,  in  the  court  of  which  was  a swarm 
of  officials,  and  of  soldiers  waiting  for  orders.  In  the 
courtyard  was  the  prison,  with  many  had  faces  looking  out 
from  behind  the  bars.  I think  Dr.  Post  pleased  himself 
to  think  of  the  hideous  negro,  with  his  teeth  like  tusks, 
behind  those  bars,  and  that  he  would  not  have  been  over- 
much grieved  to  see  his  feet  made  fast  in  the  stocks,  or 
even  subjected  to  the  bastinado. 

We  ascended  the  steps  and  entered  the  room  in  which 
the  Governor  sits  to  give  audience  to  those  who  come  to 
him  with  wrongs  to  be  redressed.  He  received  us  with  all 
courtesy,  an  attendant  brought  coffee  and  pipes,  and  we 
presented  our  grievance.  Our  old  soldier  was  on  hand, 
with  fire  in  his  eye  and  vengeance  in  his  heart,  to  tell  the 
story  of  his  wrongs.  The  case  was  a very  plain  one,  and 
the  Governor,  after  hearing  it,  called  an  attendant  and 
ordered  five  horsemen  to  mount  and  ride  in  hot  haste  to 
the  Arab  village  and  demand  the  return  of  the  money 
extorted,  the  soldier’s  sword,  and  above  all,  the  body  of 
the  negro  who  had  stopped  our  progress  and  dragged 
down  our  camels.  Away  they  galloped  over  hill  and 
dale,  but  the  issue  proved  as  the  mudir  had  said  : before 
they  reached  the  Arab  camp,  some  message  had  gone  that 
they  were  coming,  and  the  culprit  betook  himself  to  flight ; 
and  the  horsemen,  after  a long  search,  returned  without 
their  prisoner.  But  the  watch  was  kept  up  a long  time. 
At  Beirut  a letter  reached  Dr.  Post  from  Mr.  Scliapira, 
saying  that  he  had  had  a visit  from  the  mudir,  who  begged 
as  a great  favor  that,  if  the  rascal  were  taken,  he  might  be 
punished  by  the  tribe  instead  of  being  delivered  up  to  the 
authorities  at  Gaza.  Thus  the  wholesome  scare  which 
they  had  received  partly  answered  the  ends  of  justice. 

After  returning  through  the  town,  and  visiting  the 


272 


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bazaars  and  the  principal  mosque,  where  we  ascended  the 
minaret  to  take  a view  of  the  city  and  the  sea,  we  returned 
to  our  tents  weary,  but  with  the  feeling  that  at  last  we  had 
reached  a place  of  rest.  We  found  how  good  it  was  to 
come  back  to  the  society  of  one’s  fellow  beings,  to  what 
Charles  Lamb  calls  “ the  sweet  security  of  city  streets.” 

And  now,  as  the  result  of  all  my  wanderings  on  the 
desert,  I have  attained  to  this  piece  of  philosophy,  which 
I leave  for  the  benefit  of  posterity,  that  civilization  is  good 
enough  for  me  ! If  any  young  man,  full  of  the  fire  of 
ambition,  and  with  the  hot  blood  of  youth  in  his  veins, 
desires  to  set  out  to-morrow  for  the  North  Pole  or  the 
heart  of  the  Sahara,  let  him  depart  in  peace  : only  for 
myself  I will  say  with  Wisdom,  Henceforth  “ I dwell  in  the 
habitable  parts  of  the  earth,  and  my  delights  are  with  the 
sons  of  men.” 

Meanwhile  no  answer  came  to  my  telegram  to  Florence. 
Dr.  Post  had  heard  from  Beirut  that  all  was  well,  but  the 
afternoon  wore  away  and  I had  no  response.  I began  to 
feel  anxious  and  troubled.  At  last,  weary  and  exhausted, 
I retired  to  my  camp-bed  and  fell  asleep,  when  at  eleven 
o’clock  the  tent  door  was  softly  opened,  and  some  one 
stole  in.  I recognized  the  dragoman’s  voice,  who  spoke  : 
“Dr.  Field,  here  is  a telegram  for  you.”  He  struck  a 
light,  while  I read,  as  well  as  I could  amid  the  blinding 
tears,  the  sweetest  words  in  the  language,  “All  well” 
That  was  enough.  “ Thank  you,  Yohanna  : Good  night : 
Leave  me  now,  and  shut  the  door  of  the  tent.”  For  who 
would  not  be  left  to  his  own  thoughts  when  his  heart  is 
swelling  and  running  over  with  thanksgivings  to  the  Great 
Preserver  and  Protector  ? My  cup  was  full,  and  amid  the 
manifold  occasions  for  gratitude,  last  but  not  least,  this 
was  sure  to  return  : Blessed  be  civilization  ! 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  GAZA A BRAYE  MISSIONARY. 

The  message  which  awaked  me  Saturday  night  pro- 
duced a strange  tumult  in  my  thoughts.  “All  well ! ” 
Did  those  words  drop  down  from  heaven,  or  from  the  top 
of  the  campanile  at  Florence,  to  be  caught  up  by  tho  night 
wind,  and  borne  to  this  farthest  corner  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean ? Was  it  strange  if,  under  the  cover  of  our  tent, 
I felt  as  if  “rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep,”  and  listen- 
ing to  the  cry  “All’s  well  ” from  the  shift’s  deck — a cry 
repeated  all  night  long,  marking  the  hours  ? But  that  cry 
sounded  so  far  away  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  were  not  uttered 
by  any  earthly  guard  or  sentinel,  but  by  some  heavenly 
Watcher  gliding  before  us  through  the  darkness,  and 
making  a path  of  safety  in  the  great  waters.  Such  at 
least  were  the  fancies  that,  waking  or  sleeping,  filled  my 
thoughts  and  mingled  with  my  dreams,  till  the  sun  shone 
through  the  curtains  of  the  tent,  and  lo ! the  Sabbath  had 
come.  It  was  broad  day,  and  yet  there  was  neither  sight 
nor  sound  of  motion  in  the  camp.  The  camels  were  still 
prone  on  the  earth,  as  if  they  had  reached  the  end  of  their 
wanderings,  and  the  desert  should  know  them  no  more  ; 
while  the  men  lay  motionless,  as  if  they  were  sleeping  their 
last  sleep.  The  sky  was  of  the  deepest  blue,  as  if  it  had 
caught  the  reflection  from  the  Mediterranean  ; and  in  the 
air  there  was 

“ The  sense  of  something  far  nfore  deeply  interfused,” 
which  no  philosophy  can  explain  but  as  an  Invisible 


274 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  GAZA. 


Presence,  before  which  nature  stands  still,  and  which  fills 
tiie  trembling  heart  with  its  own  fulness  of  peace.  That 
morning,  at  our  family  prayers,  we  felt  a new  overflow  of 
gratitude  at  the  thought  that  we  had  “ moved  our  tent  so 
many  days  march  nearer  ” at  once  to  our  earthly  and  our 
heavenly  home. 

To  give  a sacred  sweetness  to  the  day,  we  had  for  the 
first  time  since  leaving  Cairo,  a Christian  service.  There 
is  no  church  in  Gaza,  not  even  a chapel,  however  small ; 
but  in  the  early  days  the  disciples,  in  the  land  where  we 
now  were,  assembled  in  an  upper  room,  as  in  later  times 
persecuted  Christians  found  sanctuaries  in  crypts  and  cata- 
combs ; and  so  in  the  missionary’s  house  we  joined  with 
his  family  and  a few  others,  and  listened  to  the  worship  of 
God  in  our  own  tongue  wherein  we  were  born.  Mr. 
Schapira,  as  a missionary  of  the  Church  of  England,  read 
that  service  which  I have  heard  on  many  a shore  and  sea. 
He  is  very  liberal  in  embracing  all  Christians  in  his  com- 
munion of  saints,  and  made  no  scruple  in  asking  me  to 
conduct  the  service  with  him,  and  it  was  a sweet  and  sacred 
hour  when  we  all  knelt  together,  English  and  Americans 
and  Syrians,  and  committed  ourselves  to  Him  who  is  the 
God  and  Father  of  all 

I have  become  very  much  interested  in  the  work  of  this 
excellent  missionary.  He  is  of  Jewish  descent,  and  is  a na- 
tive of  Russia,  having  been  bom  at  Odessa,  on  the  Black  Sea, 
but  has  married  a German  wife,  and  lived  in  England,  where 
he  learned  to  speak  English  perfectly,  and  labors  under  the 
auspices  cf  the  Church  Missionary  Society.  Four  years 
ago  he  came  to  Gaza — a town  inhabited  almost  exclusively 
by  Moslems  of  the  most  bigoted  and  fanatical  kind.  It 
was  hardly  possible  to  find  a more  discouraging  and  appa- 
rently hopeless  field.  "When  he  passed  in  the  streets,  he 
was  hooted  at  and  cursed.  But  he  bore  all  this  silently, 


A BRAVE  MISSIONARY. 


275 


determined  to  see  what  patience  and  faith  could  do.  He 
opened  schools  for  the  children  of  the  very  men  who 
cursed  him,  and  so  slowly  hut  surely  did  he  win  his  way 
to  their  respect  and  confidence,  that  he  now  has  two  hun- 
dred children,  most  of  them  Moslems,  who,  it  is  to  he 
hoped,  will  not  he  like  their  fathers. 

Then  he  found  that  slaves  were  brought  from  Egypt 
and  sold  in  Gaza.  Indeed  so  open  were  the  slave-dealers 
in  their  business,  that  hearing  of  the  arrival  of  a Howadji, 
they  thought  they  should  find  him  a profitable  customer — 
for  of  course  he  would  prefer  a slave  to  a hired  servant — 
and  came  to  ask  if  he  did  not  want  a “ likely  ” hoy  or  girl. 
So  much  was  he  annoyed  by  this  that  finally  he  determined 
to  pay  them  in  their  own  coin  ; and  when  they  came  again 
with  the  offer  of  a hoy  of  unusual  attractions,  he  said  he 
could  not  decide  to  purchase  till  he  had  seen  the  lad,  and 
had  him  in  his  house.  So  they  brought  him  for  a couple 
of  days  inspection.  Apparently  they  had  forgotten,  if  in- 
deed they  ever  knew,  that  a slave  thus  in  the  house  of  a 
British  subject  is  free.  Straightway  the  missionary  applied 
to  the  English  Consul  at  Jerusalem,  who  forthwith  gave 
the  desired  protection  ; so  that  when  the  slave  - dealers 
(there  were  five  of  them)  returned,  they  found  that  their 
prize  was  free,  while  they  were  put  in  prison  for  breaking 
the  law ! Nor  did  this  brave  missionary  cease  his  efforts 
till  the  boy  had  been  sent  back  to  Egypt  and  up  the  Nile, 
to  be  restored  to  the  home  from  which  he  had  been  stolen. 
After  that  he  received  no  more  offers  of  bargains  in  human 
flesh,  and  those  who  plied  the  iniquitous  trade  were  more 
retired  in  their  operations.  So  much  for  the  Christian 
courage  of  one  man  ! 

Perhaps  his  interest  in  this  matter  was  intensified  by 
his  experience  in  Africa.  He  had  been  for  two  years  a mis- 
sionary at  Sierra  Leone,  during  which  time  he  made  many 


276 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  GAZA. 


excursions  into  tlie  interior.  On  one  occasion  he  was  some 
twelve  days  inarch  from  the  coast,  where  he  found  in  a 
village  a Mahometan  missionary,  who  while  endeavoring 
to  turn  the  people  to  Islam,  thought  it  not  inconsistent 
with  his  sacred  character  to  purchase  a slave  ! He  had 
bought  a poor  boy,  whose  feet,  for  fear  of  his  running 
away,  he  had  made  fast  in  the  stocks.  Such  a sight  was 
enough  to  move  a heart  of  stone,  and  deejily  touched  the 
missionary.  But  what  could  he  do  ? He  had  no  money  to 
buy  the  poor  child’s  freedom.  Not  long  before  this  the 
Bible — which  had  been  translated  into  Arabic  by  Dr.  Yan 
Dyck — had  been  printed  at  the  press  in  Beirut,  and  thirty 
copies  had  been  sent  to  Western  Africa.  One  he  had  now 
with  him.  The  sight  of  this  excited  the  ardent  desire  of 
the  apostle  of  Islam.  Books  are  not  common  in  that  part 
of  the  world,  but  here  wTas  a volume  in  his  own  mother 
tongue.  What  would  he  not  give  to  possess  it ! He  offered 
the  missionary  any  price,  if  he  could  but  obtain  one.  This 
conversation  took  place  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the  Afri- 
can kings.  Mr.  Schapira  listened  to  the  earnest  request, 
and  finally  made  answer  : “ So  you  would  give  anything 
for  a copy  of  the  Arabic  Bible  ? Well,  you  shall  have  it  : 
it  is  yours.  Now  give  me  that  boy  ! ” “ Oh — oh — oh ! 
But — but — but ! ” exclaimed  the  Moslem.  This  was  a turn 
of  affairs  which  he  did  not  expect,  and  he  was  now  as  anx- 
ious to  recede  from  his  rash  offer  as  he  had  been  to  make 
it.  But  my  friend  held  him  to  his  agreement,  asking  if  he 
intended  to  be  put  to  shame  before  the  king  by  breaking 
his  word  ? The  upshot  of  it  all  was  that  the  Moslem  priest 
took  the  Bible,  and  gave  up  the  boy,  whom  Mr.  Schapira 
forthwith  despatched  down  to  the  coast,  to  be  put  into  the 
missionary  school  at  Sierra  Leone,  where  (though  long  a 
sufferer  from  the  torture  indicted  upon  him  by  having  his 
feet  made  fast  in  the  stocks)  he  found  under  the  English 


A BRAVE  MISSIONARY. 


077 

A ( ( 

flag  protection  and  liberty,  and  experienced  (what  he  never 
knew  before  in  his  short,  sad  life)  true  Christian  kindness. 
At  the  last  advices  he  was  still  there.  He  was  thus  snatched 
from  a fate  worse  than  death,  and  introduced  to  what,  it  is 
to  be  hoped,  will  prove  a happy  and  useful  life. 

This  touching  incident  was  told  not  at  all  in  the  way 
of  boasting,  but  was  called  out  simply  by  the  fact  that 
Dr.  Post  was  from  Beirut,  which  led  to  a conversation  in 
regard  to  the  Arabic  Bible,  that  had  been  translated  and 
printed  there,  a copy  of  which  had  made  its  way  into  such 
a remote  part  of  Africa,  and  been  used  to  purchase  the 
freedom  of  a child  who  seemed  born  to  hopeless  bondage. 

In  his  present  field  at  Gaza,  this  devoted  missionary 
has  need  of  a rare  combination  of  wisdom,  patience,  and 
courage — of  all  the  virtues  indeed  which  go  to  make  up  a 
true  hero.  He  is  virtually  an  exile  from  his  country. 
He  and  his  wife  are  the  only  Europeans  in  the  place,  and 
have  to  meet  all  the  disagreeable  associations  of  a petty 
Oriental  town.  But  worse  still  is  the  danger  of  ophthalmia. 
Nine  out  of  ten  persons  in  Gaza  have  lost  either  one  or 
both  eyes  ! From  this  the  missionary  himself  has  suffered 
greatly,  while  his  wife  finds  her  eyes  so  weakened  that 
she  cannot  use  them  at  all  at  night. 

Mr.  Schapira  is  the  first  man  whom  I have  met  who 
has  expressed  any  hope  of  reaching  the  Bedaween.  It  is 
sufficiently  discouraging  to  attempt  to  do  anything  for  the 
people  of  the  cities  ; perhaps  as  they  are  more  bigoted 
Moslems,  they  are  more  unapproachable  than  the  children 
of  the  desert.  Their  fanaticism  extinguishes  all  natural 
feeling.  They  have  not  even  the  common  instinct  of  grat- 
itude for  favors  received.  “No  matter  how  much  you  do 
for  them,”  said  my  friend,  “it  is  never  enough,  and  they 
are  never  grateful.”  He  told  me  of  a man  whose  poverty 
and  destitution  were  such  as  moved  him  to  pity,  and  he 


278 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  GAZA. 


found  him  employment  to  keep  him  from  starving.  “And 
yet  that  man,”  he  said,  “would  come  behind  me  when 
walking  in  the  street  with  my  wife,  and  thinking  we  did 
not  hear  him,  mutter  the  most  horrible  curses  on  our 
heads.” 

But,  remembering  how  the  Divine  Master  would  do 
good  even  to  those  who  reviled  Him,  this  devoted  mission- 
ary has  sought  to  imitate  that  blessed  example,  and  by  his 
kindness  to  the  children,  whom  he  has  gathered  into  his 
schools,  has  made  some  impression  on  their  parents.  In 
the  same  spirit  of  trying  to  save  those  for  whom  others 
have  abandoned  hope,  he  has  gone  literally  into  the  wilder- 
ness to  the  fierce  tribes,  who,  if  more  ignorant  than  the 
dwellers  in  cities,  are  less  bigoted.  Their  mouths  are  not 
so  full  of  cursing  and  bitterness.  They  preserve  at  least 
somewhat  of  the  kindly  instincts  of  nature,  which  have  not 
been  killed  by  religious  fanaticism.  And  so,  when  discour- 
aged, as  he  often  is,  and  disheartened,  by  the  ingratitude 
of  the  Moslems  of  Gaza,  he  Hies  to  the  Bedaween  of  the 
desert.  Of  course  he  does  not  go  with  an  ostentatious  dis- 
play of  his  condition  as  better  than  theirs,  or  anything 
which  can  excite  their  cupidity.  They  see  him  coming 
among  them,  a plain,  simple  man,  and  poor  almost  as 
themselves,  with  hardly  more  than  a staff  in  his  hand,  cer- 
tainly with  little  money  in  his  purse.  He  goes  to  their 
black  goats-hair  tents,  and  claims  their  hospitality.  He 
does  not  despise  their  homely  fare  ; he  dips  his  hand  with 
them  into  the  dish  ; and  when  they  gather  round  their 
camp-fire,  he  sits  with  them  as  their  guest,  and  leads  their 
thoughts  to  things  of  which  his  own  mind  and  heart  are 
full.  He  told  me  of  his  experience.  At  first  he  tried  to 
read  to  them  the  Bible,  but  they  yawned  and  almost  went 
to  sleep.  He  found  that  to  persuade  them  to  listen,  he 
must  not  read  out  of  a book  ; and  so  he  laid  aside  the 


A BRAVE  MISSIONARY. 


279 


Bible,  and  began  to  tell  them  a story.  It  was  “the  old, 
old  story  ” of  the  creation  of  the  world,  of  the  fall  of  man, 
and  of  the  redemption  by  Christ,  to  which,  coming  in  this 
new  dress,  they  pricked  up  their  ears  and  listened  eagerly, 
as  if  listening  to  a story  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  often  in- 
terrupting him  with  an  exclamation  of  wonder,  like  the 
Turkish  “ Mashallah  ! ” Thus  he  had  held  them  listening 
spell-bound  till  midnight,  and  in  one  case  till  two  o’clock 
in  the  morning.  After  this,  who  shall  say  that  the  Gospel, 
brought  in  wisdom  and  in  love,  may  not  reach  even  the 
descendants  of  Islimael,  whose  hands  are  against  every 
man,  and  every  man’s  hand  against  them  ? 

In  the  afternoon  word  came  to  our  tent  that  the  Gov- 
ernor had  sent  to  announce  his  intention  to  pay  us  a visit. 
An  Oriental  visit,  especially  from  a high  official,  is  a very 
formal  affair,  and  it  would  be  the  extreme  of  rudeness  to 
refuse  to  receive  it.  Accordingly  we  repaired  to  the  mis- 
sionary’s house  to  await  his  coming.  At  the  appointed 
hour  he  appeared,  with  a number  of  attendants  (the  badge 
of  his  office)  who  formed  a circle  round,  but  never  pre- 
sumed to  utter  a word.  Coffee  was  brought  and  a long 
narghileh  (in  which  the  smoke  is  inhaled  through  water) 
for  His  Excellency.  With  an  Oriental  this  is  an  indis- 
pensable preliminary  to  conversation  ; and  when  his  lips 
had  closed  on  the  amber  mouthpiece,  he  was  in  the  seren- 
est  mood,  and  the  flow  of  wisdom  began.  I sat  on  the 
sofa  beside  him,  and  with  an  occasional  inquiry  to  draw 
him  out,  had  little  more  to  do  than  to  listen  to  what  he 
had  to  say.  But  that  was  full  of  interest,  for  the  conver- 
sation took  a wide  range.  The  Effendi  spoke  with  the 
utmost  freedom  of  political  affairs  in  the  East.  He  appre- 
ciated all  the  difficulties  of  Turkey,  but  yet  was  not  with- 
out hope  for  it,  and  dwelt  with  relief  and  pleasure  on 
every  redeeming  feature  in  the  situation.  From  Turkey 


280 


THE  MOSLEMS  OF  GAZA. 


lie  passed  to  Egypt  and  Tunis,  and  the  other  Mahometan 
States  on  the  northern  coast  of  Africa.  Nor  did  he  forget 
his  own  motherland  of  Arabia  : for,  as  I have  said,  he  is 
an  Arab,  and  looks  with  hops  to  the  future  of  his  race. 
In  all  his  observations  there  appeared  a degree  of  intelli- 
gence and  a liberal  spirit  which  at  once  surprised  and  de- 
lighted us.  If  there  were  in  Turkey  many  such  men  as 
Yusuf  Effendi,  there  would  be  indeed  hope  for  the  future 
of  that  decaying  Empire. 

When  we  returned  to  our  tents,  our  cameleers  were 
preparing  to  depart — another  leave-taking,  which  gave  us 
a momentary  pang.  We  went  round  among  them  with  a 
friendly  smile  for  all,  and  a special  word  of  sympathy  for 
our  old  soldier,  who  could  not  be  comforted  for  the  shame 
that  had  been  put  upon  him  ; and  it  was  a real  pleasure  to 
learn  (though  it  was  not  till  after  I had  reached  America) 
that  on  his  return  to  Nukhl  he  had  gone  back  to  the  tribe 
that  robbed  him,  and  made  his  peace  with  them,  and 
recovered  his  sword,  with  which  badge  of  his  military 
rank  he  returned  home  in  all  the  pride  of  a soldier.  Even 
our  camels  I looked  upon  with  some  tenderness,  knowing 
that  it  was  for  the  last  time.  Dr.  Post  wasted  no  senti- 
ment on  the  beast  that  had  vexed  his  soul  from  day  to  day, 
but  was  glad  that  he  should  never  see  her  again.  But  my 
camel  had  become  a pet  ; she  had  borne  me  patiently 
across  the  desert ; and  now  as  I stroked  her  neck,  which 
she  received  as  gently  as  a favorite  pony  would  receive 
a caress,  I felt  a real  sadness  that  I should  see  her  no 
' more. 

Then  the  men  mounted,  and  the  camels  rose  up  at  the 
word  of  command,  and  filed  out  of  the  garden,  and  took 
the  way  of  the  desert.  Hardly  had  they  clisapjDeared  be- 
fore we  heard  a jingling  of  bells,  and  in  came  the  horses 
and  mules  that  had  been  ordered  from  Jaffa  to  take  us  to 


A BRAVE  MISSIONARY. 


281 


Jerusalem.  The  muleteers  took  the  place  of  tlie  cameleers, 
and  soon  made  themselves  at  home,  camping  beside  us,  to 
be  ready  for  the  morning  march. 

The  sun  was  now  sinking  in  the  west,  and  the  mission- 
ary joined  us  for  a quiet  walk  out  of  the  city,  to  meditate 
at  eventide.  Passing  between  the  cactus  hedges,  we  made 
our  way  through  the  deep  drifted  sand,  and  sat  down  by 
the  sea,  where  perhaps  Samson  had  once  stretched  himself 
upon  the  warm  beach,  displaying  his  Herculean  limbs, 
which  were  the  wonder  and  the  terror  of  the  Philistines. 
Gaza  still  retains  the  memory  of  the  deliverer  of  Israel, 
and  to  this  day  they  point  out  the  hilltop  to  which  he  bore 
the  gates  of  the  city,  and  the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Dagon, 
the  pillars  of  which,  they  tell  us,  are  buried  under  ground, 
divided  in  the  middle,  where  they  were  broken  by  his 
giant  arms. 

Dr.  Post  had  met  here  a young  physician,  who  had 
been  his  pupil  at  the  Medical  College  in  Beirut,  and  who 
had  just  brought  a wife  from  the  Lebanon  to  his  new  home. 
They  desired  us,  as  we  were  to  leave  on  the  morrow,  to 
como  and  spend  our  last  evening  with  them.  As  we  left 
the  missionary’s  house,  I offered  my  arm  to  his  wife,  who 
declined  it  with  a smile,  saying  that  it  would  attract  such 
attention  as  to  make  us  unpleasantly  conspicuous.  Mr. 
Schapira  said  that  he  never  took  his  wife’s  arm  in  the 
streets  of  Gaza,  as  it  would  be  regarded  by  the  Moslems 
as  an  exhibition  of  the  freedom  of  Christian  manners ! So 
much  for  the  difference  of  customs  in  different  countries, 
and  among  peoples  of  different  religions. 

As  we  came  into  the  streets,  a servant  led  the  way  with 
a lantern,  which  is  quite  necessary  through  streets  that  are 
not  only  narrow  and  winding,  but  generally  pitch  dark  : 
for  gas  and  even  ordinary  street  lamps  are  little  known  in 
Eastern  cities.  But  there  was  another  reason  for  having  a 


282 


Y BRAVE  MISSIONARY. 


torcli-bearer.  Any  native  venturing  into  the  streets  at 
night  without  a lantern,  would  be  arrested  by  the  police  : 
for  these  dark  passages  are  the  hiding-places  for  thieves 
who  he  in  wait  for  unprotected  strangers.  But  little  we 
thought  of  any  precautions  needed  for  our  safety,  as  we 
entered  a paved  courtyard,  and  mounting  by  a stone  stair- 
case to  the  second  story,  found  within  doors  the  light  and 
warmth  and  cheerfulness  of  a Christian  home.  The  soci- 
ety of  one  such  family  is  a great  resource  to  a missionary 
who  finds  himself  almost  alone  among  strangers.  To 
“ hold  the  fort  ” in  a city  of  Moslems,  full  of  fanaticism 
and  hatred,  requires  the  courage  of  a soldier,  as  well  as 
the  faith  of  a Christian.  But  he  who  is  equal  to  the  task 
is  doing  a work  the  full  result  of  which  he  cannot  hope  to 
see.  At  the  beginning  it  is  a very  humble  work — that  of 
opening  schools,  and  gathering  in  poor  and  neglected  chil- 
dren ; but  the  seed  thus  sown  by  education,  accompanied 
by  the  influence  of  a Christian  home,  a Christian  life  and 
example,  is  not  sown  in  vain,  and  will  spring  up  and  bear 
fruit  long  after  he  who  scattered  it  has  passed  away. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THROUGH  THE  HILL  COUNTRY  TO  BETHLEHEM. 

If  one  test  of  the  civilization  of  a country  he  the 
existence  of  roads,  we  are  in  a land  as  yet  hut  very  im- 
perfectly civilized  : for  there  is  not  a road  in  all  Pales- 
tine— or  only  one,  and  that  hardly  worthy  of  the  name. 
Some  years  ago,  when  the  Empress  Eugenie,  having  heen 
to  Egypt  to  give  hy  her  presence  Imperial  pomp  and 
state  to  the  ceremony  of  opening  the  Suez  Canal,  was  to 
pay  a brief  visit  to  the  Holy  Land,  the  authorities,  hy  ex- 
traordinary exertions,  smoothed  the  rough  places,  so  that 
a carriage  could  he  driven  from  Jaffa  to  Jerusalem  ; and 
Mr.  Cook  still  sends  a waggon  over  the  road,  in  which  trav- 
ellers can  he  jolted  up  and  down  the  hills  ; though  one  who 
is  used  to  the  saddle  will  suffer  less  fatigue  on  horseback. 
There  is  also  a macadamized  road  from  Beirut  over  the 
Lebanon  to  Damascus,  built  some  years  since  hy  a French 
company,  hut  that  is  far  to  the  North,  in  Syria  ; so  that  it 
remains  true  that,  with  the  exception  of  forty  miles  of 
driving  to  Jaffa,  there  is  not  a road  in  all  Palestine, 
and  we  have  still  to  go  mounted,  as  when  we  were  on 
the  desert.  The  only  change  is  from  camels  to  horses. 
But  this  we  found  a great  relief.  Horses  are  much  better 
suited  to  Palestine,  where,  instead  of  long  stretches  of 
sand,  one  has  to  pick  his  way — at  least  as  soon  as  he  enters 
the  Hill  Country — over  rough,  stony  paths,  both  in  the 
narrow  valleys  and  along  the  sides  of  the  mountains.  The 


284 


THROUGH  THE  HILL  COUNTRY 


Syrian  horses  are  small,  but  active  and  hardy.  They  gen- 
erally go  on  a walk,  but  step  more  quickly  than  camels, 
and  accomplish  a greater  distance  in  the  day.  They  are 
, also  very  sure-footed  — a matter  of  great  importance  in 
going  up  and  down  the  mountains. 

Thus  mounted,  our  cavalcade  of  horses  and  mules, 
though  less  picturesque  than  a caravan  of  camels,  pre- 
sented quite  a brave  show  the  next  morning  as  we  filed  out 
of  the  missionary  compound,  where  we  had  said  good-bye 
to  our  kind  friends,  and  set  out  for  Jerusalem.  The  mules 
of  the  country,  though  not  so  tall  as  camels,  are  still  very 
large  and  strong,  and  will  carry  about  as  heavy  loads. 
The  number  of  animals  for  our  pack  train  was  diminished 
as  their  burdens  were  lightened.  Having  left  the  desert, 
it  was  no  longer  necessary  to  carry  the  heavy  casks  of 
water.  Our  provisions,  too,  could  be  reduced,  as  we  had 
only  to  lay  in  a store  for  a few  days,  instead  of  weeks. 
Six  mules  carried  our  tents  with  their  furniture,  and  the 
necessary  provisions.  Dr.  Post  and  I had  a couple  of 
gray  ponies  that  bore  us  so  lightly  that  we  rode  with 
little  fatigue.  Another  horse  was  for  the  dragoman.  After 
this  file  of  horses  and  mules  came  a very  small  donkey, 
which  brought  up  the  rear.  This  was  for  the  captain  of 
the  muleteers,  who  was  a large  man,  and  his  proportions 
being  swelled  out  by  his  turban  and  his  baggy  trousers, 
he  looked  like  the  Grand  Turk  ; and  as  he  bestrode  his 
httle  beast,  he  made  a comical  figure  waddling  along  be- 
hind the  huge  mules,  that  kept  up  a constant  jingling  of 
. bells  as  they  swung  along  the  road. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Gaza  are  some  majestic  ohvc  trees, 
which,  by  their  age  (for  they  must  be  centuries  old)  and 
their-  gnarled  and  knotted  limbs,  remind  us  of  the  ancient 
oaks  of  England.  Skirting  the  road  for  a mile  or  two, 
they  form  a kind  of  fringe  or  border  for  the  fields  of 


TO  BETHLEHEM. 


285 


wheat  and  barley,  which  stretch  away  in  the  distance.  As 
soon  as  we  are  fairly  in  the  country,  we  find  it  the  same  as 
that  over  which  we  passed  in  coming  up  from  the  South — 
not  a plain,  but  a succession  of  gentle  undulations.  This 
South  Country  is  the  richest  part  of  Palestine,  unless  it  be 
the  Plains  of  Sharon  and  Esdraelon.  The  soil  itself  is 
fitted  to  yield  abundant  harvests.  Think  of  a land  with- 
out a stone  ! Scarcely  a pebble  can  be  picked  out  of  the 
soft,  warm  earth.  It  is  only  as  we  approach  the  hills  that 
the  stone  begins  to  crop  out.  For  hours  we  pursued  our 
way  through  this  richly-cultivated  country.  Great  num- 
bers of  the  people  were  abroad  in  the  fields,  engaged  in 
the  husbandry  of  the  Spring.  Farmers  were  plowing  their 
land,  sometimes  with  a single  beast,  and  often  with  a camel 
and  an  ass,  or  an  ox  and  an  ass,  yoked  together,  in  disre- 
gard of  the  Hebrew  law.  The  plow  was  always  of  wood, 
pointed  with  iron,  and  had  but  a single  handle,  so  that 
there  was  a special  force  in  the  singular  number  “ hand  ” — 
not  “ hands  ” — being  put  to  the  plow. 

Yet  rude  as  were  the  implements  of  agriculture,  there 
were  on  every  side  signs  of  the  industry  which  the  earth 
repays  with  abundant  fruit.  In  one  respect  the  people 
show  a more  careful  husbandry  than  ours  ; they  weed  out 
their  fields  of  grain,  as  we  weed  out  our  gardens.  This 
afternoon,  all  round  us,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the 
country  was  of  the  purest  emerald  green.  One  drawback 
only  there  was  to  the  beauty  of  the  landscape— the  absence 
of  trees.  This  is  caused  by  the  accursed  Turkish  G overn- 
ment,  which  blights  whatever  it  touches,  and  which  virtu- 
ally prohibits  tree-culture  by  imposing  a tax  on  every  tree, 
not  when  it  is  grown  and  bearing  fruit,  but  as  soon  as  it  is 
planted.  But  even  despotism  cannot  destroy  the  natural 
fertility  of  the  earth,  and  it  yields  such  increase  as  makes 
this  truly  a land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  The  best 


286 


THROUGH  THE  HILL  COUNTRY 


pictures  of  it  are  found  in  the  Psalms  of  David,  who  passed 
in  it,  or  on  its  border,  many  of  his  early  years.  In  yonder 
Hill  Country  he  took  refuge  when  he  was  pursued  by  Saul, 
and  “ hunted  like  a partridge  on  the  mountains.”  From 
the  recesses  of  those  hills  he  looked  out  on  the  same  rolling 
sea  of  green  that  glistened  in  the  sunrise  this  morning,  and 
here  he  found  much  of  his  imagery  of  flocks  and  herds 
and  shepherds.  From  his  eagle’s  nest  he  saw  far  below, 
stretching  away  to  the  horizon,  the  illimitable  pastures, 
“the  cattle  on  a thousand  hills,”  and  sang  exultingly,  “ The 
hills  are  clothed  with  flocks  ; the  valleys  also  are  covered 
over  with  corn  ; they  shout  for  joy,  they  also  sing.”  A 
knowledge  of  the  methods  of  agriculture  still  pursued,  and 
which  have  doubtless  come  down  from  that  day,  sometimes 
leads  us  to  detect  new  beauties  of  expression,  as  when  we 
observe  that,  while  the  fields  are  plowed,  they  are  never 
harrowed,  their  levelling  being  left  to  the  gentle  rain  : 
“ Thou  makest  it  soft  with  showers  ; Thou  settlest  (he  furrows 
thereof ; Thou  blessest  the  springing  thereof.” 

Some  of  the  signs  of  civilization  are  wanting  : there 
are  no  roads  and  no  fences  ; the  fields  are  divided  only  by 
stones.  But  the  divisions  are  as  fixed  and  as  sacred  as  if  the 
fields  were  hemmed  in  by  walls  ten  feet  high.  “Cursed,” 
said  the  Hebrew  law,  “ be  he  that  removeth  his  neighbor’s 
landmark  ” ; and  to  this  day,  to  touch  one  of  these  stones 
is  an  offence  which  is  more  likely  than  almost  any  other  to 
lead  to  bloodshed. 

Somewhere  on  this  rolling  country,  between  two  swells 
of  land,  there  flows  a brook,  beside  which  we  sat  down  to 
rest,  and  found  an  interest  in  the  rural  scene,  from  the 
conjecture  of  Robinson,  which  seems  not  improbable,  that 
this  little  stream  was  the  very  one  in  which  Philip  bap- 
tized the  eunuch,  who  was  riding  in  his  chariot  towards 
Gaza,  and  who  went  on  his  way  rejoicing  in  his  new-found 


TO  BETHLEHEM. 


287 


faith,  to  carry  light  and  joy  hack  to  the  darkness  of  his 
own  country  of  Ethiopia. 

As  we  come  up  out  of  the  South,  we  enter  gradually 
the  foot-hills  of  that  mountain  region  which  forms  the  Hill 
Country  of  Judea.  We  leave  behind  us  -what  the  Scotch 
would  call  the  Lowlands  of  Palestine,  and  what  in  some  of 
their  features  are  not  unlike  the  Lowlands  of  Scotland  ; 
we  leave  the  broad  uplands  and  wide  valleys  ; the  swells 
of  ground  rise  higher  on  either  hand,  leaving  but  a narrow 
intervale,  sometimes  a mere  strip  of  green,  between  hills 
that  are  rugged  and  rocky,  but  whose  ruggedness  is  some- 
what relieved  by  the  fig  trees,  which  are  just  in  blossom, 
and  the  low  shrubs  which  partly  cover  the  rocks,  and  make 
them  beautiful,  as  the  purple  heather  clothes  with  bloom 
the  bald  Highlands  of  Scotland. 

As  we  advance,  the  country  becomes  more  thickly  inhab- 
ited ; villages  are  more  frequent,  and  though  the  houses 
are  of  mud,  they  are  more  fit  for  human  habitation  than 
the  black  tents  of  the  Arabs,  open  to  all  the  winds  and 
rains  of  heaven.  There  is  also  more  of  comfort  and  of 
decency  in  the  clothing  of  men,  women,  and  children.  It 
was  a pleasure  to  see  once  more  the  unveiled  face  of 
woman — a face  perhaps  plain  and  common,  and  bearing 
traces  of  labor  and  care,  yet  not  disfigured  by  the  hideous 
black  veil,  which  does  not  of  necessity  betoken  modesty  in 
the  wearer.  As  we  rode  through  the  villages,  women  were 
sitting  round  the  fountains,  or  carrying  water  jars  on  their 
heads  or  their  shoulders,  like  the  Rachels  and  Rebeccas  of 
patriarchal  times. 

We  camped  at  Shummeit,  just  out  of  the  little  town,  on 
the  top  of  a hill  which  commanded  a wide  sweep  of  the 
horizon  southward  and  westward  ; over  the  country  we 
had  left  behind,  and  away  towards  the  coast  where  the 
sun  went  down  into  the  western  sea. 


288 


THROUGH  THE  HILL  COUNTRY 


Tlie  next  morning  we  were  early  in  tlie  saddle,  and 
after  starting  our  baggage  train  northward  in  a direct 
course  to  Bethlehem,  wre  struck  across  country  to  Beit 
Jebrin,  which  has  some  remarkable  ruins,  that  date  from 
the  time  of  the  Romans.  From  the  remains  of  walls,  it 
was  evidently  a fortified  town,  and  was  doubtless  the  site 
of  a Roman  camp,  placed  here  to  overawe  Pliilistia.  The 
Roman  arch  shows  that  these  were  built  by  the  Imperial 
people,  when  they  were  masters  of  Palestine,  as  of  all  the 
East.  The  country  about  is  honeycombed  with  structures 
underground,  some  of  which  are  natural  caves,  which  were 
perhaps  used  for  the  storing  of  grain ; while  others  are 
hollowed  out  of  the  rocks,  with  passages  and  galleries, 
which  may  have  been  designed  for  the  retreats  of  hermits. 
Besides  these,  there  are  other  structures,  which  have  more 
distinctly  an  ecclesiastical  design,  in  which  the  pointed 
arch  shows  that  they  were  of  a later  time,  built  perhaps 
by  the  Crusaders. 

From  Beit  Jebrin  we  took  a guide,  as  indeed  we  had 
need,  for  the  hills  were  more  and  more  closing  in  upon  us. 
The  road  in  which  we  could  ride  side  by  side,  dwindled  to 
a narrow  bridle  path,  in  which  we  had  to  keep  in  single  file, 
and  this  became  more  steep  and  stony  till  it  required  all 
the  vigor  of  our  little  ponies  to  clamber  over  the  rocks. 
All  daylong  we  were  making  our  way  over  the  hills,  rugged 
and  bare  and  wild,  such  as  we  were  afterwards  to  traverse 
in  a large  part  of  Palestine.  It  was  five  o’clock  when  we 
reached  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  turned  to  look  back 
over  the  sea  of  mountains,  and  away  southward  to  the 
Plain  of  Philistia,  and  westward  to  the  Mediterranean.  As 
we  rose  over  this  point,  which  from  its  height  commands 
an  extensive  view  to  the  north,  the  dragoman,  pointing  to 
a long  white  line  on  the  crest  of  a mountain,  which  was 
suddenly  lighted  up  by  the  descending  sun,  exclaimed 


TO  BETHLEHEM. 


289 


“ There  is  Jerusalem ! ” It  was  our  first  glimpse  of  the 
Holy  City.  It  was  not  an  ancient  wall  that  we  saw,  nor 
even  the  dome  of  the  Mosque  of  Omar,  which  stands  on 
the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon,  hut  the  Armenian  Con- 
vent (for  the  numerous  convents  are  the  most  conspicuous 
objects  of  the  modern  city)  ; but  for  the  instant  a thrill 
shot  through  us  as  if  we  had  caught  a glimpse  of  the 
Heavenly  Jerusalem.  We  said  but  few  words,  but  gazed 
and  gazed  as  we  rode  on  over  the  hills  and  down  the 
passes,  till  just  at  evening  we  dismounted  at  Solomon’s 
Pools,  which  he  built  to  furnish  water  to  Jerusalem. 

When  we  turned  away  from  the  Pools  of  Solomon,  the 
sun  was  set,  but  we  had  still  a long  ride  before  us — at  least 
it  seemed  long,  for  we  were  weary,  the  road  was  rough, 
and  the  shades  of  night  were  gathering.  The  moon,  but  a 
week  old,  lighted  faintly  the  rocky  path  through  which  we 
picked  our  way.  We  rode  on  in  silence  till  we  began  to 
ascend  ; we  were  climbing  a hill,  and  when  we  reached  its 
top  we  were  in  Bethlehem ! Winding  our  way  through 
the  streets  of  the  little  town,  we  found  our  camp,  and 
crawled  off  our  horses,  having  been  in  the  saddle  twelve 
hours. 

But  the  bright  lights  and  the  refreshing  tea  awaiting 
us  soon  put  us  in  a cheerful  glow,  and  we  went  out  to  take 
a night  view  of  the  scene  around  us.  Our  tents  were 
pitched  on  the  brow  of  a hill,  looking  down  into  a deep 
valley,  where  all  lay  as  in  profound  slumber.  Not  a sound 
broke  the  deep  stillness  : 

The  beating  of  our  own  hearts 

Was  all  the  sound  we  heard. 

But  those  hearts  beat  fast,  for  what  memories  were  there 
to  stir  the  depths  of  emotion.  That  valley  below  us  was 
the  field  of  Boaz  where  Ruth  gleaned  the  blades  of  ripened 
grain ! 


290 


TO  BETHLEHEM. 


And  look  across  tlie  valley  to  yonder  hillside!  That 
gentle  slope,  which  is  seen  dimly  in  the  pale  moonlight, 
is  the  field  in  which,  according  to  tradition,  “ shepherds 
were  keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night,”  when  “ the 
angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shone  round  about  them.”  In  this  matter  of  locali- 
ties it  is  best  not  to  be  too  precise  or  too  positive.  Nor  is 
it  necessary  to  fix  the  identical  spot.  The  exact  point  in 
space  matters  little,  any  more  than  the  exact  point  of  time. 
All  we  know,  and  all  that  we  need  to  know,  is  that  it  was 
somewhere  within  the  circuit  of  these  hills  that  the  shep- 
herds watched  ; that  it  was  in  these  skies  that  they  saw 
the  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host,  and  heard  the  song 
“ Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  toward  men.”  That  is  enough  to  make  the  very 
heavens  above  us  more  serene,  and  the  stars  shine  with  a 
softer,  tenderer  fight.  We  look  upward  as  if  we  might 
catch  some  faint  gleam  of  the  angelic  wings,  or  a far-off 
echo  of  the  angelic  voices.  How  they  soared  and  sang ! 
Never  before  did  the  earth  hear  such  harmonies  as  these, 
which  filled  all  the  depths  of  air. 

At  length  they  ceased,  and  the  vision  vanished  like  a 
cloud.  Higher  and  higher  rose  the  heavenly  host,  and  far- 
ther and  farther  the  strains  died  away,  till  once  more 
heaven  and  earth  were  still.  And  yet  may  it  not  be  that 
they  died  away  only  to  the  shepherds’  ears,  while  elsewhere 
they  kept  sounding  on  ? Perhaps  the  celestial  choir-  only 
ascended  into  a higher  atmosphere,  and  there  floated  over 
other  mountain  tops  and  other  valleys,  the  waves  of  sound 
circling  round  them  till  they  touched  every  shore,  and  all 
tribes  and  kindreds  of  men  heard  the  good  tidings  of  great 
joy.  O Christ,  at  whose  birth  the  angels  sang,  will  that 
song  ever  be  heard  again  in  the  upper  air  of  this  poor 
world  of  ours  ? 


CHAPTER  XXH. 

AROUND  THE  PLACE  WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 

In  entering  Palestine  from  the  South  Country,  instead 
of  from  the  sea  by  Jaffa,  there  is  the  advantage  that  we 
approach  Jerusalem  through  Bethlehem,  and  thus  follow  a 
natural  order  in  coming  to  the  place  of  our  Lord’s  birth 
before  we  come  to  that  of  His  active  ministry,  as  well  as 
of  His  death,  burial,  and  resurrection. 

In  the  confusion  of  localities  which  is  so  common  in 
the  East,  it  is  a comfort  to  our  Christian  faith  that  there  is 
one,  the  identity  of  which  is  not  disputed.  Seven  cities 
contended  for  the  honor  of  being  the  birthplace  of  Homer, 
but  no  question  has  ever  been  raised  in  regard  to  the  birth- 
place of  Christ.  Long  before  His  birth,  Bethlehem  figures 
in  the  Jewish  annals.  As  far  bach  as  the  days  of  the  patri- 
archs, Rachel  died  near  Bethlehem  in  giving  birth  to  Ben- 
jamin, and  her  tomb  is  still  shown,  where,  if  her  dust  be 
not  preserved,  yet  lingers  the  sweetness  of  her  beloved 
name.  Here  too  David  was  born,  and  in  his  boyhood 
rambled  over  these  hills,  and  perhaps  kept  his  father’s 
flock  in  the  field  of  his  great-grandfather  Boaz  and  his 
great-grandmother  Ruth.  As  the  City  of  David,  Bethle- 
hem had  a place  in  the  regard  of  every  pious  and  patriotic 
Jew.  Consecrated  by  such  memories,  it  was  pointed  out 
as  the  future  birthplace  of  One  greater  than  David,  by  a 
prophecy,  seven  hundred  years  before  Christ  was  bom  : 
“ Thou  Betlilehem-Ephratah,  though  thou  be  little  among 


292 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


the  thousands  of  Judah,  jet  out  of  thee  shall  He  come 
forth  that  is  to  be  ruler  in  Israel.”  Not  only  was  it  Beth- 
lehem, but  Bethlehem  of  Judah,  to  distinguish  it  from 
Bethlehem  of  Galilee.  So  precisely  was  indicated  the 
place  which  was  to  be  of  such  interest  to  all  who  should 
believe  in  Him  unto  the  end  of  the  world. 

As  to  the  time  of  the  Saviour’s  birth,  it  is  reckoned  by 
scholars  to  have  been  at  least  four  years  before  the  date 
commonly  fixed  for  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era.  This 
earlier  date  is  easily  determined  by  reference  to  other  events 
fixed  in  profane  history.  It  was  in  the  reign  of  Augustus 
Caesar,  at  the  time  of  a general  enrollment  of  the  inhabit- 
ants which  had  been  ordered  from  Rome.  But  as  to  the 
season  of  the  year,  Biblical  chronologists  do  not  agree,  and 
probably  never  will.  Each  season  has  had  its  advocates. 
Indeed  there  is  hardly  a month  which  has  not  been  adopted 
by  some  commentator  for  reasons  convincing  to  himself. 
The  general  consent  of  the  Church  since  the  fourth  cen- 
tury has  accepted  the  25th  of  December.  But  some  reason 
that  it  could  hardly  have  been  so  near  midwinter,  when 
travelling  would  be  difficult  among  the  hills  of  Judea,  that 
the  Roman  Emperor  would  send  forth  a decree  that  all 
should  go  to  their  own  cities  to  be  enrolled.  This  is  partly 
answered  by  the  fact  that  in  Palestine  there  is  an  interval 
of  about  two  months  between  the  early  and  the  latter  rains, 
from  the  middle  of  December  to  the  middle  of  February, 
which  would  furnish  the  opportunity  required.  Others 
argue  from  the  fitness  of  things,  that  it  might  have  been 
expected  that  the  Saviour  would  be  born  in  the  Spring, 
when  nature  itself  was  in  harmony  with  the  new  life  that  * 
was  coming  on  the  world. 

Such  were  our  thoughts  as  we  came  out  of  the  door 
of  the  tent,  and  looked  down  once  more  into  the  vale 
of  Bethlehem.  It  was  almost  the  last  day  of  March — the 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


293 


very  budding  and  blossoming  and  flowering  season  of  Pal- 
estine. The  morning  sun  showed  us  what  we  had  seen  but 
dimly  by  moonlight  ; and  as  we  looked  down  into  the  deep 
valley  below,  the  field  of  Boaz  was  green  with  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  early  Spring.  All  around,  the  terraced  hillsides 
were  covered  with  vineyards  or  with  orchards,  on  whose 
varied  colors  the  eye  rested  with  delight  — thq  tender 
green  of  the  olive  and  the  red  flowers  of  the  pomegran- 
ate, mingled  with  fig-trees  which  were  now  in  full  blos- 
som. Surely  this  was  the  season  of  all  the  round'  year 
for  the  advent  of  Him  who  was,  in  another  and  a higher 
sense,  to  renew  the  face  of  the  earth.  So  it  seemed  to  us, 
and  indeed  if  we  could  but  follow  the  fancies  of  this  in- 
spiring hour,  we  should  think  it  most  in  harmony  with 
the  event,  that  our  Lord  should  have  come  into  the  world 
in  the  early  dawn,  when  the  morning  star  was  just  above 
the  horizon,  and  the  light  of  the  rising  sun  began  to  glow 
over  the  distant  mountains  of  Moab,  and  to  touch  the 
crests  of  this  hill  country  of  Palestine.  But  what  matters 
it  whether  the  Lord  came  at  midnight,  or  at  the  cock-crow- 
ing, or  in  the  morning,  so  that  He  came  ? It  is  the  event 
which  concerns  us  rather  than  the  season,  whether  Spring 
or  Summer,  or  Autumn  or  Winter.  What  imports  the 
season  of  the  year  to  Him  who  “ has  all  seasons  for  His 
own  ” ? What  matters  it  whether  the  star  in  the  East 
shone  on  harvest  fields  or  on  wintry  snows,  so  that  it 
but  led  the  wandering  Magi  till  it  came  and  stood  over 
where  the  young  child  was  ? As  to  the  month  or  the  day, 
that  is  a minor  point  on  which  we  are  not  careful  to  an- 
swer— content  to  accept  the  day  which  has  been  observed 
for  centuries  as  that  of  our  Redeemer’s  birth.  When  the 
year  comes  round  and  brings  the  happy  Christmas  time  ; 
and  the  bells  are  ringing  in  every  Christian  land,  we  would 
join  with  universal  Chi'istendom  in  celebrating  an  event 


294 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


which  brought  “good  tidings  of  great  joy  to  all  people.” 
In  such  a spirit  we  take  our  morning  walk  to-day  to  the 
Church  of  the  Nativity,  to  linger  awhile  beside  the  spot, 
where,  according  to  tradition,  our  Saviour  came  into  the 
world,  and  by  the  manger  where  they  laid  Him. 

In  visiting  “ holy  places,”  one  finds  not  infrequently 
a jar  on  his  devout  meditations,  at  the  mingling  of  things 
sacred  and  profane,  of  the  common  and  the  trivial  with 
that  which  is  of  far  higher  interest.  As  I walked  along 
the  narrow  streets  and  looked  into  the  little  shops  of 
Bethlehem,  it  was  not  easy  to  adjust  the  mingling  of  the 
petty  cares  and  drudgery  of  daily  life  with  the  solemn 
and  religious  thoughts  which  filled  the  mind.  And  still 
they  are  not  in  such  disaccord  as  they  might  seem  ; for 
Bethlehem  is  inhabited  by  Greek  and  Latin  Christians 
(with  but  three  hundred  Moslems  in  a population  of  five 
thousand),  whose  main  industry  is  that  of  providing  mate- 
rial aids  to  devotion.  As  of  old  there  were  various  kinds 
of  business  connected  with  the  Temple,  so  here  the  chief 
occupation  of  the  little  town  is  the  making  of  rosaries  and 
crosses  and  images  of  saints  from  olive  wood,  from  coral 
and  mother  of  pearl,  for  the  use  of  pilgrims. 

Passing  these  we  direct  our  steps  towards  the  Church 
of  the  Nativity.  Even  a stranger  would  have  no  difficulty 
in  finding  it,  for  the  building  towers  high  above  all  others  at 
the  end  of  the  town,  the  centre  around  which  are  clustered 
three  Convents,  making  altogether  an  imposing  architectu- 
ral pile.  Following  the  pilgrims,  who  are  moving  in  one 
direction,  we  come  to  an  open  square,  at  the  end  of  which 
rise  the  massive  walls  of  the  Church,  which  was  begun  by 
Helena  in  327,  and  completed  by  Constantine  in  333.  It 
was  formerly  entered  by  three  arched  doors  of  imposing 
height  and  breadth,  two  of  -which  are  now  walled  up,  and  the 
third  partly  so,  leaving  an  entrance  almost  as  small  as  that 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


295 


at  the  Convent  of  Mount  Sinai,  and  kept  small  for  the  same 
purpose  of  protection.  In  former  centuries  the  proud 
Moslems  were  accustomed  to  ride  through  the  high-arched 
portal  to  profane  the  sacred  place  and  insult  the  feelings 
of  those  who  came  here  as  devout  worshippers,  to  guard 
against  which  it  was  walled  up  on  the  side  and  at  the  top, 
so  that  now  the  lintel  is  not  very  far  above  a man's  head 
But  this  low  and  narrow  door  is  quite  sufficient  for  the 
pious  pilgrim,  who  would  not  enter  on  horseback,  but  on 
foot,  or  even  on  his  knees,  if  that  were  necessary,  to  mark 
his  reverence  for  the  holy  place.  He  enters,  and  finds 
himself  in  the  presence  of  the  greatest  shrine  save  one 
(that  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in  Jerusalem) 
in  the  Christian  world.  The  interior  is  vast  and  sombre. 
Everything  speaks  of  centuries  long  gone.  The  old  walls, 
which  have  stood  for  more  than  fifteen  centuries ; the  open 
rafters  of  cedar  overhead  sent  from  England  and  reared  in 
place  by  hands  that  have  long  been  dust  ; give  an  impres- 
sion of  that  which  is  very  ancient,  even  if  it  were  not  for  the 
voices  of  the  monks  “ chanting  the  liturgies  of  remote  gen- 
erations.” 

We  pass  up  the  aisle  to  the  end  of  the  church,  where, 
under  the  great  choir,  a flight  of  steps  from  either  side 
leads  to  the  crypt,  which  is  the  supposed  scene  of  the 
birth  of  our  Lord. 

In  coming  to  this  place  of  pilgrimage,  the  first  question 
is  as  to  its  identity.  While  no  doubt  can  exist  that  our 
Saviour  was  born  in  Bethlehem,  yet  in  what  precise  spot 
in  Bethlehem,  is  a question  which  has  been  much  debated  : 
and  although,  like  the  question  of  the  day  or  the  season, 
it  is  not  material  to  the  significance  of  the  event,  yet  it  is 
a matter  of  interest,  especially  when  we  are  standing  on 
what  is  supposed  to  be  the  very  spot.  It  is  said  of  the 
mother  of  Christ  that  “ she  brought  forth  her  first-born 


296 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


son,  and  wrapped  him  in  swaddling-clothes,  and  laid  him 
in  a manger,  because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the 
inn.”  This  first  resting-place  of  the  Holy  Family  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  under  ground,  which  at  least  is  possible. 
The  hillsides  of  Palestine  are  full  of  caves,  which  were  often 
used  for  storing  grain  and  feeding  cattle.  Sometimes  a 
spacious  cavern  was  turned  into  a kind  of  hostelry.  If  the 
impression  be  conveyed  that  there  was  an  indignity  offered 
to  Mary  and  Joseph,  in  that  they  were  obliged  to  take 
refuge  in  such  a place,  this  will  not  be  so  interpreted 
by  those  who  have  lived  in  the  East,  and  who  know  how 
in  the  great  khans  or  caravanserais  men  and  animals  are 
often  herded  together  in  the  same  enclosure  or  under  the 
same  roof.  Several  weeks  after  this  I was  on  Mount 
Carmel,  where  is  a small  but  substantial  stone  building 
designed  for  the  uSe  of  pilgrims,  with  but  one  large  room, 
whose  only  division  is  that  the  place  for  men  and  women 
is  two  or  three  feet  higher  than  that  for  the  beasts  of 
burden.  On  this  raised  platform  the  pilgrims  sit  and  eat 
and  sleep,  while  but  just  below  them  stand  “ the  beasts  of 
the  stall.”  Along  the  edge  of  the  raised  platform  is  a long 
stone  trough,  in  which,  when  not  crowded  with  the  heads 
of  cattle  feeding,  children  are  laid  down  to  sleep  as  the 
most  convenient  place  of  rest,  and  for  safety,  as  its  depth 
makes  it  a secure  cradle,  in  which  a child  would  be  as 
safe  from  falling  as  in  its  mother’s  arms.  Indeed  at  the 
moment  that  we  entered,  there  was  a child  sleeping  quietly 
in  this  stone  manger,  which  gave  us  an  exact  image  of  the 
manger-cradle  of  Bethlehem,  in  which  they  laid  the  holy 
child  Jesus. 

As  to  this  crypt  under  the  church,  whether  it  be  the 
very  place  of  the  manger,  there  is  a further  question, 
not  so  easily  answered.  Tradition  may  not  be  conclu- 
sive, but  certainly  it  is  entitled  to  weight ; and  so  far 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


297 


as  tradition  goes,  it  points  to  this  spot,  and  to  no  other. 
Justin  Martyr,  who  was  horn  at  the  beginning  of  the 
second  century,  hut  a few  years  after  John,  the  last  of  the 
Apostles,  was  in  his  grave,  speaks  of  the  birth  of  Christ  as 
having  taken  place  in  a cave  near  Bethlehem.  Origen,  who 
was  horn  in  the  latter  part  of  the  second  century,  refers  to 
it  as  a matter  about  which  there  was  no  dispute.  And 
here  in  the  fourth  century  was  erected  the  great  basilica, 
in  everlasting  commemoration  of  the  event.  In  the  latter 
part  of  that  century,  Jerome  fixed  his  residence  on  this  spot, 
to  be  near  the  birthplace  of  his  Lord,  while  he  wrought  upon 
his  great  work  of  the  translation  of  the  Scriptures  from  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  into  the  Latin  tongue.  Against  this 
concurrence  of  tradition  there  is  only  a vague  uncertainty, 
so  that  the  balance  of  probabilities  may  be  said  to  incline 
in  its  favor. 

"With  such  a leaning  towards  belief,  it  was  with  a deep 
feeling  that  I descended  the  steps,  and  found  myself  in 
the  Grotto  of  the  Nativity.  It  is  like  any  grotto  or  cavern, 
with  low  roof,  only  ten  feet  high,  and  would  be  quite  dark 
but  for  the  number  of  lamps,  that  cast  their  light  on  the 
marble  pavement,  in  which  the  most  Drillj^nt  object  is  a 
silver  star  under  the  altar,  that  is  supposed  to  mark  the 
very  spot  where  our  Lord  came  into  the  world.  Encircling 
it  is  the  inscription  : Hie  de  Vtrgine  Maria  Jesus  Christus 
natus  est  [Here  Jesus  Christ  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary]. 
Opposite  to  this,  and  but  a few  feet  distant,  three  steps 
lower,  is  another  altar,  covering  the  supposed  place  of  the 
manger. 

Had  I been  wholly  incredulous  as  to  the  spot,  I could 
not  but  be  moved,  if  it  were  only  by  sympathy  with  the 
emotion  it  awakened  in  others.  It  was  just  before  the 
Holy  Week,  and  Bethlehem  as  well  as  Jerusalem  was 
thronged  with  pilgrims.  Here  they  came  in  crowds,  and 


298 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


felt  a strange  awe  as  they  entered  the  Grotto  of  tlie  Nativ- 
ity. They  fell  upon  their  knees  before  the  altar ; they 
bowed  their  heads  in  prayer  ; they  kissed  the  sacred  spot 
marked  by  the  silver  star,  while  tears  fell  upon  the  pave- 
ment ; and  as  they  lifted  them  eyes  to  heaven,  and  their 
lips  moved  silently,  it  seemed  as  if  their  thoughts  were 
floating  upward  with  the  cloud  of  incense,  and  that  they 
were  responding  to  the  prayers  offered,  according  to  the 
Greek  and  Latin  rituals — pro  vivis  et  defunctis — for  the 
living  and  the  dead. 

So  much  was  I interested  in  the  associations  of  this 
ancient  church— the  oldest  perhaps  in  the  Christian  world 
— that  after  I had  been  over  it  and  under  it  and  around  it, 
and  gone  away,  I came  back  again  to  spend  another  hour, 
and  to  renew  the  impressions  of  the  place.  As  I walked 
up  the  aisle  a second  time,  a monk  in  the  coarse  dark 
brown  robe  of  the  Franciscan  Order,  with  a rope  round 
his  waist,  recognizing  me  as  a stranger,  and  perhaps  divin- 
ing the  country  from  which  I came,  addressed  me  in  Eng- 
lish. He  was  an  Irish  monk,  and  had  lived  in  America ! 
He  was  very  polite,  and  invited  me  into  the  Convent,  tak- 
ing me  to  the  refectory  and  offering  me  refreshment,  and 
up  on  the  roof,  which  commands  a beautiful  view  down 
into  the  valley  and  over  the  surrounding  hills  ; from  which 
we  returned  to  the  church,  and  to  the  grotto  under  it,  and 
to  the  study  of  Jerome,  where  he  spent  the  last  thirty 
years  of  his  life  translating  the  Bible,  and  where  was  wit- 
nessed the  scene  of  his  Last  Communion,  which  has  been 
immortalized  in  the  great  painting  of  Domenichino.  As  we 
passed  from  place  to  place,  we  were  deep  in  conversation 
about  the  sacred  localities,  in  which  I soon  discovered  the 
intense  jealousy  of  the  different  Christian  sects  of  the  East. 
This  church  is  walled  in  by  three  Convents — Greek,  Latin, 
and  Armenian — which  are  not  planted  against  its  sides  to 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


299 


serve  as  buttresses  for  its  support,  but  like  hostile  fortresses, 
that  wished  to  keep  in  range  of  each  other’s  guns.  My 
guide  spoke  with  evident  bitterness  of  the  way  in  which 
“ the  Greeks  ” had  usurped  control.  He  said  they  would 
not  allow  the  Latins  even  to  celebrate  Mass  at  the  altar 
over  the  birthplace,  which  he  seemed  to  consider  a great 
privation,  even  though  the  Latins  had  the  altar  over  the 
manger ! Indeed  for  a long  time  the  Latins  were  excluded 
entirely.  The  question  of  the  “ holy  places  ” was  one  of 
the  causes  of  the  embittered  feeling  between  France  and 
Russia,  which  led  to  the  Crimean  War,  and  it  was  finally 
owing  to  the  determined  position  of  Louis  Napoleon,  that 
the  Latins  obtained  the  rights  which  they  now  enjoy, 
apparently  in  equal  degree  with  the  Greeks. 

Such  exhibitions  of  religious  jealousy,  not  to  say  ani- 
mosity, produce  a painful  feeling,  and  it  is  hard  to  keep 
alive  the  associations  of  the  birthplace  of  Christ,  in  the 
presence  of  a temper  so  little  like  that  of  our  Master. 
Some  are  so  grieved  by  this  unchristian  spirit,  that  they 
retire  in  a mood  very  far  from  that  of  devotion.  And  yet 
the  bitterness  which  shows  only  human  infirmity,  cannot 
drag  down  to  its  own  level  that  which  is  Divine  ; nor  can 
the  gross  superstitions  which  have  gathered  round  the 
place,  destroy  the  sacred  reality. 

Walking  slowly  down  the  aisle  to  the  side  door  which 
opened  into  the  Latin  Convent,  the  good  monk  courte- 
ously took  his  leave,  while  I lingered  yet  a little  while 
within  the  walls  that  wakened  such  venerable  associations. 
Turning  again,  I retraced  my  steps  towards  the  end  of 
the  church,  and  once  more  descended  into  the  Grotto 
of  the  Nativity.  It  was  the  same  scene  as  before — 
the  pilgrims  were  kneeling,  the  prayers  were  ascending. 
Withdrawing  a little  from  the  altar  not  to  disturb  the 
worshippers,  I gave  myself  up  to  some  quiet  thoughts 


300 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


suggested  by  the  place.  Standing  in  the  Grotto  of  the 
Nativity,  how  could  one  help  trying  to  recall  the  scene 
witnessed  here  nearly  nineteen  centuries  ago,  before  which 
the  Magi  knelt,  and  before  which  the  Christian  world  is 
still  kneeling  ? It  is  but  a familiar  domestic  scene,  a 
young  mother  with  her  first-born  child  in  her  arms. 
There  are  no  surroundings  of  circumstance  to  give  it 
pomp  and  splendor.  It  is  not  a royal  birth,  announced 
to  an  expectant  kingdom  by  the  waving  of  banners  over 
a great  capital.  The  fact  that  a child  was  born  probably 
did  not  produce  the  slightest  stir  even  in  the  inn.  It  was 
but  a Hebrew  woman,  humble  in  appearance  and  attire 
as  the  subterranean  chamber  in  which  she  had  taken 
refuge,  and  perhaps  with  not  a single  attendant  but 
Joseph,  not  even  a nurse  to  perform  the  commonest 
offices  for  one  who  with  her  own  hands  “ wrapped  her 
child  in  swaddling  clothes  and  laid  him  in  a manger.” 
How  insignificant  was  such  an  event ! How  little  was 
there  in  that  poor  young  mother  to  distinguish  her  from 
the  thousands  of  the  daughters  of  Israel ! 

And  yet,  such  are  the  strange  mutations  of  time,  that 
no  one  of  woman  born,  excepting  only  the  son  whom  she 
herself  bore,  ever  had  such  a name  and  place  in  history. 
How  little  she  thought — lowly  in  heart  as  in  life — of  the 
homage  that  was  to  await  her  in  future  generations ! As 
she  lay  here  in  this  Grotto,  on  her  bed  of  stone,  she  may 
have  heard  over  her  head  the  tramp  of  Roman  soldiers, 
or  of  the  crowd  that  had  flocked  to  be  enrolled  at  the 
bidding  of  Caesar.  Rome  and  Caesar!  The  very  words 
struck  awe  into  the  heart  of  a Hebrew,  man  or  woman, 
as  they  suggested  images  of  greatness  and  power.  Little  ^ 
could  one  so  poor  dream  that  in  the  lapse  of  centuries 
her  own  humble  name  would  be  heard  in  the  streets  of 
Rome ; that  temples  would  rise  to  her,  more  numerous 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


301 


and  more  vast  and  splendid  than  the  heathen  temples  they 
displaced  ; and  that  thus,  poor,  weak,  and  human  as  she 
was,  she  would  be  exalted  as  an  object  of  worship.  This 
indeed  is  an  exaltation  which  throws  all  human  honors 
into  nothing.  What  are  thrones  and  diadems  to  this  ? 
What  queen  so  great,  though  she  were  the  mother  of  a 
long  line  of  kings,  as  to  be  worthy  to  be  named  in  the 
presence  of  her  before  whom  even  kings  and  queens  bow, 
hailing  her  as  Regina  Cadi  and  Mater  Dei ! 

It  would  be  a long  history  that  should  trace  the  growth 
of  superstition,  which  culminated  in  this  exaltation  of  the 
mother  of  Christ  to  a degree  that  became  nothing  less  than 
idolatry.  In  the  Roman  Church  not  only  is  Mary  revered 
as  the  mother  of  our  Lord,  but  she  is  exalted  to  be  a 
partner  of  his  throne — the  sharer  of  his  divinity.  She  is 
the  object  of  ceaseless  intercessions  and  prayers.  In 
every  cathedral  in  the  Catholic  world,  the  Ave  Maria 
mingles  with  invocations  of  the  Redeemer. 

This  is  more  than  honor  : it  is  worship.  It  is  giving  to 
the  creature  that  which  belongs  only  to  the  Creator.  These 
superstitions  and  idolatries  have  produced  iu  Protestant 
minds  a revulsion  of  feeling,  which  sometimes  carries  them 
to  an  equal  extreme  the  other  way.  We  are  so  shocked  by 
a false  estimate  that  we  hardly  take  pains  to  get  a true  one. 
We  find  it  difficult  to  disentangle  our  thoughts  from  this 
mass  of  legend,  and  to  form  a just  conception  of  a char- 
acter which  is  beautiful  because  of  its  freedom  from  all 
pretension,  its  simplicity,  its  modesty,  purity,  and  truth. 
But  surely  it  is  worth  the  attempt.  Shutting  out  all  false 
lights,  can  we  not,  by  the  light  of  Scripture  alone,  form  a 
just  conception  of  the  mother  of  our  Lord? 

In  such  a spirit  let  us  study  once  more  the  group 
in  this  Grotto  of  the  Nativity,  and  what  do  we  see?  . 
A Hebrew  maiden,  of  humble  birth,  with  nothing  of  the 


302 


AROUND  TIIE  PLACE 


queenly  in  lier  looks,  such  as  poets  and  painters  have 
given  her.  The  artists  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  largely 
responsible,  not  for  the  deification,  but  for  the  idealiza- 
tion, of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Divesting  ourselves  of  these 
misleading  impressions  of  medieval  art,  we  picture  not 
a wondrous  beauty  of  form  or  face,  but  that  beauty  of 
the  soul  which  shines  through  the  countenance,  showing 
itself  in  deep,  tender,  thoughtful  eyes  ; the  spiritual  blend- 
ing with  the  womanly,  producing  a kind  of  illumination, 
such  as  is  seen  only  in  the  faces  of  saintly  women.  With- 
out ascribing  to  her  supernatural  graces,  we  can  well  believe 
that  there  was  something  sweetly  spiritual  in  her  face,  as 
became  the  descendant  of  a long  line  of  mothers  in  Israel — 
devout  women  who  had  been  waiting  for  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Her  mind  was  filled  with  sacred  thoughts,  “ waiting,” 
like  Simeon,  “for  the  consolation  of  Israel,”  and  so  full 
of  these  great  hopes,  that  she  was,  though  “ troubled,” 
not  affrighted  by  the  apparition  of  the  angel.  For  such 
interior  grace  and  purity  she  was  chosen  to  be  the  mother 
of  our  Lord.  And  when  beneath  this  lowly  roof  came  that 
blissful  hour,  there  overspread  her  countenance  an  added 
grace  which  it  never  had  before.  There  was  no  halo  round 
her  head,  but  in  her  face  shone  the  light  of  love.  Her  eyes 
perhaps  were  downcast,  as  if  she  felt,  at  that  moment  more 
than  ever,  how  unworthy  she  was  of  the  honor  which  was 
given  her,  and  yet  there  was  the  inexpressible  beaming  of 
a mother’s  joy,  as  she  took  her  first-born  child — and  such 
a child — within  her  arms.  Such  is  the  image  we  gather 
from  the  few  faint  touches  in  the  New  Testament — that 
of  a simple  woman,  pure,  unworldly  ; with  a woman’s 
capacity  for  suffering,  as  well  as  for  devotion  ; not  self- 
denying  so  much  as  self-forgetting ; never  thinking  of 
herself,  but  with  her  whole  existence  wrapped  up  in  that 
of  her  Son,  to  whom  she  clung,  not  only  with  natural 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


303 


affection,  but  with  unbounded  faith  as  her  Lord  and 
Master. 

While  therefore  we  disown  and  reject,  as  unworthy 
of  those  who  worship  God  only,  the  superstitious  homage 
paid  to  the  mother  of  Christ,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  the 
honor  which  is  justly  due  to  holy  men  and  women, 
belongs  in  the  highest  degree  to  her  whom  God  himself 
honored  so  greatly.  How  can  any  one  speak  lightly  of 
her  whose  name  is  introduced  in  the  most  venerable  of 
ancient  creeds  in  connection  with  that  of  our  Lord,  “ who 
was  conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost  and  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  ” ? “ Blessed  art  thou  among  women,”  said  the  angel, 
and  surely  all  generations  may  call  her  blessed  who  was 
chosen  from  her  race  to  be  the  mother  of  Christ,  the  one 
to  whom  His  eyes  opened  first  in  life,  and  turned  last  in 
death.  She  who  bore  that  relation  to  our  Saviour  cannot 
be  indifferent  to  us.  She  who  received  the  Christ-child  in 
her  arms,  and  laid  him  in  a manger ; who  watched  over 
his  infancy  ; under  whose  roof  he  grew  in  favor  with  God 
and  man  ; who  shared  his  bitter  sorrows  ; who  “ stood  by 
the  cross” — “Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa”;  to  whom  he  cast  a 
dying  look  of  ineffable  tenderness — to  her  is  due,  not  wor- 
ship, but  the  love  and  reverence  of  all  the  ages. 

And  that  is  the  truest  reverence  which  regards  her,  not 
as  a being  out  of  nature — a celestial  spirit  that  came  into 
our  sphere  to  be  the  “ mother  of  God  ” — but  as  in  all 
things  human.  When  we  learn  to  look  upon  her,  not  as 
a divinity,  or  even  as  an  angel,  but  simply  as  a woman  and 
a mother,  we  shall  see  how,  in  the  honor  put  upon  her, 
honor  is  done  to  all  womanhood  and  all  motherhood.  Rec- 
ognizing her  in  a relation  which  they  also  bear,  all  mothers, 
without  kneeling  to  her  as  an  object  of  worship,  may  look 
into  her  pure  and  saintly  face,  and  find  in  her  love  and 
tenderness  an  inspiration  and  an  example. 


304 


AROUND  THE  PLACE 


Eut  whatever  the  inward  grace  and  spiritual  beauty  of 
the  mother  of  our  Lord — pure  and  noble  and  saintly  as 
she  was — yet  she  shines  chiefly  by  reflected  light.  In  the 
celebrated  picture  of  The  Nativity  by  Correggio,  the  light 
is  made  to  emanate  from  the  Child,  from  which  it  shines 
in  the  faces  of  all  the  wondering  group.  This  is  as  true 
to  reality  as  it  is  beautiful  in  aid — the  chief  glory  of  the 
mother  wTas  in  her  relation  to  her  Divine  Child,  and  it  is 
the  illumination  of  His  countenance  which  casts  up  such 
a radiance  into  her  face. 

As  we  picture  to  ourselves  that  scene,  we  imagine  the 
thoughts  of  that  young  mother  concerning  her  child.  She 
remembered  the  words  of  the  angel,  and  had  often  pon- 
dered them  in  her  heart ; and  now  bends  over  his  cradle, 
endeavoring  to  read  the  mystery  of  his  fate.  But  her  eyes 
were  holden  that  she  could  not  see  it.  Well  was  it  that  it 
was  so,  for  amid  all  the  signs  and  tokens  of  future  glory, 
there  were  dark  intimations  of  a period  of  suffering  that 
must  precede  it.  What  meant  those  mysterious  words  of 
Simeon  : “A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine  own  soul 
also  ” ? The  Christ  was  born,  but  to  what  was  he  born  ? 
Not  to  glory  only,  but  to  suffering  such  as  the  world  had 
not  known.  Could  the  mother  in  that  hour  of  happiness 
have  foreseen  all  the  future,  her  heart  wrould  have  tlirilled 
not  only  with  rapture,  but  with  pain.  She  would  have  seen 
coming  to  her  child  sorrows  from  which  maternal  love  could 
not  defend  him.  Could  she  have  foreseen  the  trials  and  the 
bitterness  of  his  mortal  life — the  agony  in  the  Garden,  the 
mockings  and  scourging  in  Pilate’s  hall,  and  the  final  scene, 
of  which  she  was  to  be  a witness — she  would  have  turned 
away  her  eyes  from  the  sight,  and  in  her  motherly  shrink- 
ing from  it  might  have  implored  the  God  who  gave  him  to 
take  him  back  again,  ere  yet  he  entered  on  a life  of  so  much 
suffering. 


WHERE  CHRIST  WAS  BORN. 


305 


And  yet  beyond  the  darkness,  beyond  tbe  clouds  and 
the  shadows,  there  was  a brightness  such  as  never  shone 
on  the  world  before.  The  full  significance  of  that  event 
no  imagination  could  conceive.  The  Magi,  bending  low 
and  offering  gifts  of  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh,  could 
not  grasp  the  infinite  destinies  that  were  wrapped  up  in 
the  life  of  him  who  lay  apparently  a helpless  child  m his 
mother’s  arms.  Nor  could  that  mother  herself,  in  her  fond- 
est dreams,  take  in  the  great  reality.  Had  her  eyes  been 
opened  to  see  what  was  dawning  on  the  world,  she  would 
have  seen  the  new  faith  extending,  till  nations  came  to 
measure  their  own  existence  by  the  years  and  centuries 
from  the  birth  of  Christ. 

Such  are  some  of  the  thoughts  that  come  to  us  in  the 
Grotto  of  the  Nativity.  If  it  be  indeed  the  place  of  our 
Saviour’s  birth,  then  is  there  not  on  the  round  globe  a spot 
of  greater  interest  than  this,  over  which  shone  the  guiding 
star,  and  sang  the  heavenly  voices  : for  it  has  witnessed 
immeasurably  the  greatest  event  of  all  time.  The  birth  of 
Christ  was  the  coming  of  God  into  humanity — the  coming 
of  a new  life  into  the  world.  The  manger  of  Christ  was 
the  cradle  of  our  Beligion.  Under  this  lowly  roof  was 
born,  not  only  Christ  the  Lord,  but  Christianity  and  Chris- 
tendom, from  which  have  flowed  all  the  mighty  influences 
of  modern  civilization.  He  who  would  trace  these  to  their 
source,  must  follow  them  far  back  in  the  ages  to  this  sub- 
terranean chamber,  as  the  fountain  in  the  rock  from  which 
they  sprung.  Of  ail  this  what  could  that  Hebrew  mother 
know?  Only  as  she  looked  into  that  sleeping  face,  she 
may  have  remembered  how  it  was  written,  “A  little  child 
shall  lead  them.’’  That  child  was  to  be  indeed  the  leader 
of  the  human  race.  All  history  was  in  that  manger-cradle. 
The  fate  of  unborn  generations  was  held  in  that  little  hand. 


CHAPTER  XXm. 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN JERICHO. 

At  Bethlehem  we  were  within  six  miles  of  Jerusalem, 
but  we  did  not  enter  it  that  day,  nor  yet  on  the  morrow  : 
for  Dr.  Post,  who  is  familiar  with  the  geography  of  the 
country,  suggested  that  it  would  be  an  economy  of  time, 
and  of  our  facilities  of  travel,  while  we  had  our  horses 
and  mules  and  complete  camp  equipage,  to  make  a detour 
to  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  Jordan,  an  excursion  of  two  or 
three  days  ; so  that  on  reaching  Jerusalem,  we  could  dis- 
miss our  rather  expensive  retinue,  and  give  ourselves  up 
to  seeing  the  sights  of  the  Holy  City.  Accordingly  we 
despatched  Tohanna  with  all  speed  to  Jerusalem  for  our 
letters,  while  we  were  seeing  Bethlehem,  and  in  the  after- 
noon took  horse  for  the  Dead  Sea.  Hardly  were  we  in  the 
saddle  before  we  sprang  off  again  : for  we  had  come  to  the 
famous  well  by  the  gate  of  Bethlehem,  of  which  David, 
who  had  often  tasted  its  sweetness,  so  desired  to  drink 
that  his  three  mighty  men  brake  through  the  host  of  the 
Philistines,  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  to  bring  him  a 
draught.  To  this  well  the  daughters  of  Bethlehem  still 
come  to  fill  the  jars  which  they  balance  so  gracefully  on 
their  shoulders.  One  was  even  now  at  the  place,  and  at 
our  request  drew  up  water  from  the  ■well  and  gave  us  to 
drink.  It  was  a trifling  incident,  but  a pleasant  one,  thus 
to  have  water  given  us  to  drink  from  the  Well  of  David  at 
the  hand  of  a maiden  of  the  Hill  Country. 

Keeping  on  our  way,  we  soon  left  Bethlehem  behind. 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


307 


As  we  got  out  of  the  town,  and  our  little  company  stretched 
out  in  single  file,  I observed  that  we  had  an  addition  to  our 
party  in  a mounted  guard.  It  is  a significant  token  of  the 
utter  absence  of  protection  in  this  country  under  the  rule 
of  the  Sultan,  that  a traveller  cannot  go  thirty  miles  from 
Jerusalem,  to  the  Dead  Sea  or  the  Jordan,  without  an 
armed  escort.  Parties  may  venture  unattended,  but  they 
do  it  at  their  own  risk.  The  Bedaween,  who  occupy  these 
hills  and  valleys,  consider  it  as  their  “ stamping-ground,” 
and  that  they  have  a right  to  levy  toll  on  travellers.  It  is  a 
thing  perfectly  understood,  and  every  party  pays  a certain 
sum — a kind  of  blackmail — to  the  sheikh  of  the  tribe,  for 
which  he  guarantees  its  safety.  Without  it,  his  own 
retainers  would  be  the  first  to  rob  the  unprotected  travel- 
ler. Understanding  so  well  from  our  past  experience  the 
law  of  the  desert,  we  were  well  pleased  to  see  a fine 
athletic  Arab,  well  mounted  and  well  armed,  ride  to  the 
front,  and  thus  assume  to  be  the  “ body-guard  ” of  our 
party.  He  was  mounted  on  a light,  active  pony,  and  had 
slung  on  his  back  a double-barrelled  gun  that  looked  as 
though  it  might  do  execution  in  case  of  necessity. 

The  country  we  entered  soon  after  leaving  Bethlehem, 
furnished  the  most  perfect  contrast  to  the  terraced  slopes, 
covered  with  figtrees  and  vines,  which  gave  such  beauty 
to  the  City  of  David.  It  was  a succession  of  brown,  barren 
hills,  to  which  the  only  relief  was  in  the  myriads  of  wild 
flowers,  and  in  occasional  glimpses  of  the  waters  of  the 
Dead  Sea,  which  appeared  far  below  us  in  the  basin  of  the 
mountains.  In  its  general  aspect  the  region  was  almost 
as  desolate  as  the  desert  itself,  and  indeed  its  claim  to  that 
character  is  indicated  in  the  name  it  bears,  for  we  are 
now  entering  the  Wilderness  of  Judea — the  scene  of  the 
ministry  of  John  the  Baptist. 

After  three  or  four  hours  of  this  rough  riding,  of 


308 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


ascents  and  descents,  climbing  the  heights  and  going 
down  into  the  depths,  as  we  rose  to  the  summit  of  one  of 
these  barren  hills,  we  looked  down  into  a deep  gorge,  in 
which  stood  a Convent,  whose  position  and  appearance  at 
once  reminded  us  of  that  at  Mount  Sinai,  having  quite  as 
much  the  look  of  a fox-tress  as  of  a Convent.  It  is  built  on 
the  edge  of  a precipice.  The  brook  Kedron,  that  flows 
under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  forcing  a passage,  not  west- 
ward to  the  Mediterranean,  but  east  to  the  Dead  Sea,  has 
in  the  lapse  of  ages  worn  a channel  hundreds  of  feet  in 
depth,  like  a cafion  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Although 
the  chasm  is  not  so  wide,  yet  the  cliffs  are  not  unlike  those 
one  may  see  along  the  brink  of  the  Niagara  River.  Here 
has  been  built  with  infinite  labor  a huge  structure  spread- 
ing over  pei’haps  an  acre  of  ground,  which  in  its  day  was  a 
famous  monastery.  It  is  fourteen  hundred  years  old,  hav- 
ing been  founded  in  the  fifth  centui-y.  Saint  Saba,  who 
gives  it  its  name,  must  have  belonged  to  the  Church  mili- 
tant, if  what  tradition  says  be  true,  that  on  this  vei-y  spot 
he  attacked  a hon  in  his  den,  like  another  Samson,  and 
after  slaying  the  beast,  took  possession  of  his  den  as  a cell. 
Another  version  of  the  story  is,  that  instead  of  killing  the 
hon,  he  subdued  him  by  his  saintly  life  and  his  prayers,  so 
that  man  and  beast  occupied  the  same  cell,  and  lived  in 
perfect  harmony.  The  reader  can  take  his  choice  of  these 
two  stories ; no  doubt  one  is  as  time  as  the  other.  Here 
in  this  lair  of  a wild  beast  the  old  fighting  anchorite  gath- 
ered round  him  a large  community  of  monks.  In  modem 
times  it  has  sadly  dwindled,  numbering  now  only  some 
three-score,  who  are  cloistered  or  imprisoned  here.  "We 
were  told  afterwards  in  Jerusalem  that  it  was  a sort  of 
ecclesiastical  penitentiary  to  which  rebellious  priests  or 
monks  were  exiled  to  do  penance  for  their  sins — or  per- 
haps for  their  virtues,  for  they  would  be  quite  as  likely  to 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


309 


be  sent  there  if  they  showed  too  much  zeal  ; if  their  ardor 
in  their  sacred  office  or  fervor  in  preaching  should  suggest 
an  unfavorable  contrast  with  their  ecclesiastical  superiors. 
Nothing  would  be  more  likely  to  subdue  any  excess  of 
enthusiasm,  to  cool  the  ardor  of  a young  apostle  or  the 
fervor  of  his  eloquence,  than  the  silence  of  one  of  these 
monks’  cells.  He  might  pace  up  and  down  the  walls 
that  overhang  the  depth  below,  and  preach  to  the  jack- 
als that  make  their  holes  in  the  rocks  on  the  other  side 
of  the  abyss  ; but  he  would  not  be  likely  to  disturb  the 
composure  of  “His  Beatitude,”  the  Greek  Patriarch  of 
Jerusalem. 

The  Convent  serves  also,  in  case  of  need,  the  purpose 
of  a caravanserai,  not  only  for  pilgrims  to  the  Jordan,  but 
for  ordinary  travellers.  The  monks  were  quite  willing  to 
give  us  lodgings,  but  we  preferred  our  own  clean  beds  and 
the  fresh  air  of  our  tents.  We  had,  however,  the  full  range 
of  the  interior,  going  up-stairs  and  down-stairs,  and  even 
on  the  roof,  as  well  as  through  the  prison-like  quarters  of 
the  holy  fathers. 

One  token  of  the  peculiar  sacredness  of  this  monastery, 
is  that  it  is  jealously  guarded  against  the  intrusion  of  the 
other  sex.  No  woman  must  enter  its  sacred  precincts.  I 
fear  the  holy  fathers  would  be  sorely  scandalized  if  any 
roguish  traveller  were  to  drop  a lady’s  slipper  in  the  court. 
How  quickly  it  would  be  thrown  over  the  walls  into  the 
chasm  of  the  Brook  Kedron,  unless  perchance  it  fell  under 
the  eye  of  some  poor  monk  wdio  had  left  in  him  a touch 
of  human  feeling,  and  who  might,  if  unobserved  by  his 
brethren,  snatch  it  up  and  hide  it  in  the  folds  of  his  coarse 
robe  and  take  it  to  his  cell,  and  there  shed  bitter  tears  at 
the  thought  of  the  happy  days  of  his  childhood,  when  it 
was  not  a sin  to  look  in  the  warm  and  loving  face  of  his 
mother  or  sister. 


310 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


But  this  suggestion  is  quite  too  romantic,  ancl  too 
human  for  the  monks  of  Mar  Saha,  in  whom  every  ves- 
tige of  our  common  nature  was  long  since  dried  up  and 
withered  away.  Never  have  I seen  such  bloodless  speci- 
mens of  humanity.  No  wonder  that  they  are  so,  shut  up 
within  these  walls  where  the  sunlight  strikes  them  but  a 
few  hours  a day.  They  are  like  plants  in  a cellar — wasted 
and  withered.  As  Madame  Roland  exclaimed  on  her  way 
to  the  guillotine,  “ Liberty  ! what  crimes  are  committed  in 
thy  name,”  so  here  we  have  to  exhaust  every  exclamation 
of  horror  and  surprise  at  the  unutterable  follies  committed 
in  the  name  of  Religion. 

It  is  very  evident  that  women  are  not  admitted  here  ; 
if  they  were,  they  would  soon  bring  a glow  of  sunshine 
into  the  place,  instead  of  leaving  it  dark,  dingy,  and  musty 
as  it  is ! If  I were  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  I would  re- 
verse the  order  of  things,  and  turn  out  the  monks,  and 
leave  it  solely  to  the  other  sex.  If  it  were  taken  possession 
of  by  a company  of  nuns,  or  sisters  of  charity,  they  would 
soon  renovate  it,  and  give  it  a look  of  cleanliness  and  com- 
fort, that  would  make  it  a place  fit  for  human  habitation. 

But  sunlight  gilds  even  prison  walls,  at  least  the  out- 
side of  them,  and  when  the  sun  rose  over  the  mountains 
of  Moab,  and  shone  into  these  deep  gorges,  it  lighted 
up  the  old  Convent  with  a kind  of  glory,  that  set  us  all 
alert  and  aglow  as  we  mounted  our  ponies  and  picked  our 
way  along  the  edge  of  the  cliff  by  a narrow  path  walled 
in  by  a parapet  to  keep  us  from  going  over  the  precipice — 
a depth  of  six  hundred  feet — till  our  horses’  hoofs  rattled 
down  into  the  rocky  bed  of  the  Kedron.  Our  mounted 
guard  rode  ahead,  with  eye  and  ear  alert,  a3  if  he  might 
spy  an  enemy  lurking  behind  the  rocks.  We  were  told 
that  there  was  less  danger  now  than  there  might  have 
been  a few  weeks  before,  as  the  Bedaween  had  but  lately 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


311 


driven  their  flocks  across  the  Jordan  into  tire  land  of 
Baslian  for  pasturage. 

On  emerging  from  tlie  gorge  of  the  Kedron,  we  found 
tlie  cliaracter  of  the  country  the  same  as  yesterday  ; the 
same  succession  of  ascents  and  descents,  the  same  clam- 
bering over  rugged  hills,  winding  around  heights,  and 
descending  steep  declivities ; till  gradually  we  came  down 
to  the  level  of  the  Dead  Sea. 

The  ride  took  us  five  hour’s,  and  was  very  fatiguing. 
In  the  early  morning,  while  the  air  was  fresh,  it  was  exhila- 
rating ; but  as  the  sun  rose  higher,  striking  full  on  the 
slopes  of  the  hills  and  into  the  deep  valleys,  the  heat 
became  intense,  so  that  by  eleven  o’clock  we  were  glad  to 
take  refuge  in  a clump  of  bushes,  where  we  could  get  a 
little  shade  and  an  hour’s  rest,  after  which  we  mounted 
again  and  rode  on  to  the  shore. 

My  first  impression  of  the  Dead  Sea  was  one  of  sur- 
prise at  its  beauty.  Its  very  name  seemed  to  be  equiv- 
alent to  the  Sea  of  Death.  Indeed  it  had  been  supposed 
that  its  life  began  with  death  ; that  its  existence  dated  from 
an  act  of  destruction,  when  the  Cities  of  the  Plain  were 
destroyed  by  fire  from  heaven  ; and  naturally  I thought 
of  it  as  a dull,  sluggish,  almost  stagnant,  body  of  water, 
lying  in  a “plain,”  which  was  not  a garden  of  fertility, 
but  a sandy  desert,  with  perhaps  here  and  there  scat- 
tered fragments  upon  the  shore,  the  melancholy  tokens 
of  its  utter  desolation.  This  idea  vanishes  at  the  first 
glimpse  caught  from  the  side  of  the  mountains.  Instead 
of  the  black  waters  of  Death,  we  looked  down  upon  a 
deep  blue  expanse  that  had  all  the  beauty  of  the  Scotch 
or  Swiss  lakes.  Its  one  unique  feature  is  its  extreme 
depression  on  the  earth’s  surface,  for  it  is  the  lowest 
body  of  water  on  the  globe,  lying  thirteen  hundred  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean.  But  this  rather 


312 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


increases  the  effect  of  the  glassy  surface,  glistening  like  a 
mirror  so  far  clown  in  the  depths  of  the  earth,  and  deepens 
the  tranquil  beauty  of  the  mountain-guarded  lake. 

If  we  had  been  surprised  at  the  beauty  of  the  Dead 
Sea,  not  less  so  were  we  at  the  mountains  of  Moab,  to  which 
writers  and  painters  have  hardly  done  justice.  Their  appa- 
rent height  is  of  course  greatly  increased  by  the  depres- 
sion of  the  sea  beneath.  Rising  up  so  steeply,  they  cast 
a deep  shadow  on  the  waters  which  lie  so  far  below. 
It  is  a grand  chain  of  mountains,  clothed  with  that  rich 
purple  tint  which  gives  such  beauty  to  the  Apennines,  as 
seen  in  the  journey  from  Florence  to  Rome.  But  these 
summits  have  associations  such  as  do  not  belong  to  the 
Alban  Hills,  or  any  range  seen  from  the  Campagna  : for  it 
was  here  that  Moses  came  to  take  his  first  and  only  view 
of  the  Promised  Land,  and  to  die.  Scholars  are  divided 
as  to  the  precise  point  of  the  chain  which  is  Mount  Nebo, 
and  which  is  the  peak  of  Pisgah  ; but  it  could  not  have 
been  far  away,  for  it  was  “ over  against  Jericho,”  and  so 
must  have  been  within  the  sweep  of  the  eye,  as  we  look  up 
from  the  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea.  Other  associations  carry 
us  back  far  before  the  death  of  Moses  to  the  time  when 
Abraham  and  Lot  pastured  their  flocks  in  the  plain  whose 
cities  were  destroyed. 

Of  course  superstition  which  is  busy  everywhere  in 
Palestine,  could  not  forego  such  an  opportunity  for  legends 
and  imaginary  terrors  as  was  furnished  by  a lake  that  was 
supposed  to  roll  over  buried  cities.  It  has  been  said  that 
the  waters  are  so  leaden  that  they  lie  in  a dead  calm, 
which  no  mountain  breeze  can  stir  into  a ripple  ; and 
that  birds  cannot  fly  over  a surface  from  which  are  sup- 
posed to  rise  poisonous  exhalations.  This  latter  fancy  is 
not  peculiar  to  the  Dead  Sea.  In  Ireland,  a few  miles  out 
of  Dublin,  is  a glen  embosomed  in  the  hills,  enclosing  a 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


313 


loch  which  is  invested  with  the  same  charm  of  superstition. 
Moore  has  introduced  the  legend  in  a little  poem,  beginning 
“ By  that  lake  whose  gloomy  shore 
Skylark  never  warbles  o’er.” 

An  Irish  peasant  gravely  assured  me  that  no  skylark  had 
flown  over  it  in  thirteen  hundred  years ! He  spoke  with 
as  much  assurance  as  if  his  memory  extended  over  the 
whole  of  that  period.  It  is  a pity  that  such  poetic  fancies 
have  to  disappear  before  the  prose  of  fact.  But  the  legend 
is  just  as  true  in  regard  to  the  Irish  lake  as  to  the  Dead 
Sea.  If  I had  had  the  faith  of  a true  believer,  it  would 
have  been  unfortunate  that  just  as  we  rode  down  to  the 
shore,  birds,  startled  at  our  approach,  took  wing  and  flew 
directly  over  these  deadly  waters  ; and  that  a puff  of  wind, 
that  came  down  from  the  hills,  should  have  set  the  lake  in 
motion,  so  that  the  waves  came  rippling  up  the  beach,  as 
if  they  had  been  the  clear  waters  of  our  own  Lake  George. 
But  when  we  came  to  bathe  in  the  Dead  Sea,  we  found  it 
indeed  of  very  unusual  weight  and  density,  though  not 
exactly  lead  ; and  when,  to  make  a final  test  of  its  cpiality, 
we  took  a swallow  into  our  mouths,  ugh ! it  tasted  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah ! 

Mounting  our  horses  after  our  bath,  we  rode  along  the 
beach  around  the  head  of  the  lake,  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Jordan,  which  here  Hows  through  a long  and  level  stretch 
of  sand,  which  it  has  thrown  up  in  its  annual  floods,  till  at 
last  the  impetuous  stream  checks  its  swift  current  as  if 
folding  its  robes  to  die  with  dignity,  before  it  is  quite 
swallowed  up  and  lost.  This  sandy  shore  is  not  hard  like 
a pebbled  beach,  and  the  horses’  hoofs  began  to  sink 
under  us,  so  that  we  had  to  dismount  and  make  our  way 
on  foot,  but  we  kept  on,  not  content  till  we  stood  at  the 
very  point  of  junction,  where  the  rapid  river,  whose  every 
motion  has  been  full  of  life,  at  last  dies  in  the  Dead  Sea. 


314 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


Retracing  our  steps,  we  mounted  again,  and  turned 
northward  to  the  Fords  of  the  Jordan.  As  we  could  not 
keep  along  the  river  bank  because  of  the  dense  jungle,  we 
struck  directly  across  the  plain.  The  thick  growth  of 
reeds  and  rushes  hides  the  river,  but  as  we  could  see 
where  it  was  flowing,  it  was  easy  to  form  a general  idea 
of  its  character.  The  Jordan  is  born  among  the  hills,  hav- 
ing its  source  at  the  base  of  Herrnon,  from  which  it  bursts 
forth  like  the  streams  that  issue  from  the  glaciers  of  the 
Alps,  with  all  the  fury  of  a mountain  torrent.  This  char- 
acter it  preserves  throughout  its  course,  darting  on  swiftly 
like  “ the  arrowy  Rhone.”  Its  rapid  current  gives  it  a 
force  which  is  sometimes  very  destructive,  but  for  all  that 
it  can  hardly  boast  of  the  majesty  of  our  broader  but  more 
slow-moving  rivers.  I am  afraid  that  our  colored  brethren, 
who  sing  with  such  fervor 

“ I want  to  go  to  heaven  when  I die, 

To  hear  old  Jordan  roll,” 

would  be  a little  disappointed  were  they  to  see  “old 
Jordan,”  and  find  that  it  did  not  roll — for  it  has  nothing 
of  the  peculiar  swell  and  movement  and  sound  of  waves — 
but  it  rushes,  if  that  will  do.  It  rises  so  rapidly  when  the 
rains  come  or  the  snows  melt  on  the  sides  of  Hermon,  that 
it  sweeps  everything  before  it,  so  that  there  is  a peculiar 
aptness  in  the  question  of  J eremiah  : “ If  thou  hast  run 
with  the  footmen,  and  they  have  wearied  thee,  then  how 
canst  thou  contend  with  horses?  And  if  in  the  land  of 
peace,  wherein  thou  trustedst,  they  have  wearied  thee,  then 
how  wilt  thou  do  in  the  swelling  of  Jordan  ?” 

After  an  hour’s  ride  across  the  plain,  we  came  to  a 
more  open  space,  where  the  jungle  on  the  river  side  parted 
so  as  to  allow  us  to  come  down  to  the  brink,  and  we  found 
ourselves  at  the  spot  which  is  generally  held  to  be  the  scene 
of  our  Saviour’s  baptism.  Whether  the  tradition  is  founded 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


315 


in  truth,  may  well  be  doubted.  But,  at  any  rate,  this  is 
devoutly  believed  to  be  the  spot,  and  as  such  it  is  the  most 
frequented  place  of  pilgrimage  in  the  valley  of  the  Jordan. 
Here  the  pilgrims  come  by  tens  of  thousands  every  year, 
rushing  into  the  stream,  like  the  Hindoos  into  the  Ganges, 
as  if  the  least  touch  of  its  holy  waters  were  sufficient  to 
wash  away  sin.  We  too  bathed  like  the  rest,  though  with 
no  such  sense  of  its  miraculous  virtue.  However  we  may 
smile  at  a too  easy  credulity,  no  Christian  can  come  to 
this  place  on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  without  emotion  at 
the  thought  that  he  is  perhaps  on  the  very  spot,  where  our 
Saviour  stood  while  the  Baptist  poured  the  waters  on  His 
sacred  head,  and  the  Spirit  descending  like  a dove  rested 
upon  Him,  and  a voice  was  heard  from  the  cloud  saying 
“ This  is  My  beloved  Son  ! ” 

From  the  place  of  baptism,  it  is  a two  hours  ride  to 
Jericho.  If,  as  is  probable,  Joshua  crossed  the  Jordan 
at  or  near  this  point,  we  were  now  following  the  line 
of  his  march  to  his  first  battle  and  his  first  victory.  The 
plain  is  not  much  more  secure  now  than  in  the  days 
of  the  Hebrew  leader  ; for  though  in  the  course  of  cen- 
turies it  has  been  swept  by  countless  armies — by  the 
Egyptian,  the  Babylonian,  the  Roman,  the  Moslem,  and 
the  Crusader — yet  it  is  to  this  day  a lurking-place  of 
the  Bedaween,  who  often  despoil  pilgrims  and  unpro- 
tected travellers. 

That  afternoon’s  ride  was  a fearful  one  because  of  the 
heat.  The  sun  poured  down  on  the  plain  as  on  the  desert, 
and  indeed  it  is  like  a desert  in  its  desolate  character.  The 
soil  is  fertile,  and  yet  it  produces  little,  simply  for  want 
of  irrigation,  while  on  the  border  of  the  plain  is  a river 
which  might  be  made  to  overflow  it  as  the  Nile  overflows 
the  valley  of  Egypt.  The  Doctor,  who  has  a quick  eye  for 
utilizing  natural  resources,  immediately  had  a plan  for 


31G 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


reclaiming  this  waste,  and  explained  how,  by  the  use  of  an 
American  invention,  the  swift-rushing  Jordan  could  be 
made  to  lift  itself  up  in  volume  sufficient  to  water  the 
whole  plain.  With  this  it  wTould  be  a paradise  of  beauty, 
for  the  depression  of  the  basin  of  the  Jordan  and  the  Dead 
Sea  is  such  as  to  give  it  a tropical  climate,  and  with  a sup- 
ply of  water  it  would  have  a tropical  vegetation.  What  it 
might  become  is  shown  by  what  it  now  is  on  that  side 
of  the  valley  where  water  reaches  it,  for  as  we  come  nigh 
unto  Jericho,  the  springs  wrhich  burst  out  of  the  hills, 
and  flow  through  natural  and  artificial  channels,  cause  all 
the  products  of  the  earth  to  flourish  luxuriantly.  We  rode 
through  gardens  and  orchards,  whose  abundant  growth 
gave  assurance  of  what  the  country  might  again  become 
with  proper  cultivation. 

The  name  of  Jericho  (City  of  Palms)  is  pleasantly  sug- 
gestive of  its  ancient  beauty.  Irrigated  and  cultivated 
as  its  environs  then  were,  it  may  well  have  been  embow- 
ered in  palms,  which  would  not  grow  in  the  Hill  Country 
around  Jerusalem.  Alas ! not  a palm  grows  here  now ! 
And  yet  the  region  around  it  retains  its  natural  fertility, 
and  if  “ well  watered  ” might  again  be  what  it  once  was, 
“ as  the  garden  of  the  Lord.” 

But  Jericho  is  a place,  like  so  many  others  in  the  East, 
where 

“All  save  the  spirit  of  man  is  divine.” 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  imagine  the  poverty  and  wretch- 
edness of  the  inhabitants,  whose  filth  and  squalor  are 
in  keeping  with  the  mud-huts  in  which  they  live.  This 
must  be  the  Jericho  to  which  we  sometimes  dismiss 
“ friends  ” whose  presence  we  do  not  absolutely  require. 
How  often  have  I wished  one  and  another  of  my  acquaint- 
ances—-I  will  not  say  my  enemies — “ in  Jericho  ” ! It  is 
the  general  limbo  to  which  we  consign  all  bores  and  un- 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


317 


comfortable  people.  And  now  I was  “ in  Jericho  ” myself. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  I was  rather  impatient  to  get  out 
of  it.  So  we  hastened  on  through  the  town,  to  some  spot 
where  we  could  enjoy  the  beauty  of  nature.  This  we 
found  close  under  the  cliffs  which  form  a background  for 
the  plains,  from  the  foot  of  which  gushes  what  bears  the 
suggestive  name  of  the  Fountain  of  Elisha.  The  fountain 
is  a full  one,  discharging  such  a volume  of  water  as  keeps 
a stream  flowing,  which  is  carried  through  the  gardens  and 
orchards. 

On  the  bank  above  this  fountain  we  pitched  our  tents, 
glad  to  rest  after  a day  of  great  fatigue,  rendered  more 
oppressive  by  the  over-powering  heat.  It  was  a grateful 
change  to  sit  in  our  tent  door  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  and 
listen  to  the  murmur  of  the  fountain  under  our  feet.  The 
sun  had  sunk  behind  the  hills,  and  now  the  moon,  which 
we  had  seen  as  a pale  crescent  hanging  over  the  Moslem 
camp  at  Nukhl,  had  grown  in  fulness,  and  crept  upward  in 
the  heavens  till  it  hung  directly  over  our  heads.  How  it 
softened  the  outline  of  the  mountains  of  Moab,  and  even 
threw  a misty  veil  over  the  wretched  town,  slumbering 
under  its  dense  foliage ! 

We  had  been  told  that  one  of  the  things  to  see,  or 
rather  to  hear,  at  Jericho,  was  the  peculiar  music  of  the 
people,  who  had  some  rude  native  airs,  to  which  they 
chanted  a song  and  executed  a kind  of  war  dance.  Not 
wishing  to  miss  an  opportunity  to  hear  some  real  Arab 
music — a thing  we  had  not  heard  in  all  our  wanderings  on 
the  desert — we  sent  for  these  singers,  and  about  eight 
o’clock  some  twenty  of  them,  men  and  women  and  chil- 
dren, marched  up  to  the  front  of  our  tent,  and  standing  in 
a line,  began  their  unique  performance,  which  consisted  of 
a quick  motion  of  all  together,  swaying  their  bodies  and 
swinging  their  arms  up  and  down,  keeping  time  to  these 


318 


THE  DEAD  SEA  AND  THE  JORDAN. 


movements  with  a kind  of  grunt.  "While  this  went  on,  the 
leader  flourished  a drawn  sword  in  their  faces,  it  being  a 
point  of  skill  to  come  as  near  as  possible  without  touching 
them.  Every  few  moments  one  or  another  would  quit  the 
ranks  and  rush  up  to  me  with  a piercing  shriek  and  yell, 
which  they  hissed  in  my  very  ears.  After  a few  moments 
I thought  I had  had  enough  of  this  “ concert,”  and  told  the 
dragoman  that  he  might  tell  them  the  Howadji  was  satis- 
fied. “ What  shall  I give  them  ? ” I asked  ; to  which 
Yohanna,  who  always  liked  to  play  the  prince  with  other 
people’s  money,  replied  in  a careless  sort  of  way  “ Give 
them  a napoleon — four  medjidies”  (Turkish  dollars)  ; to 
which  I immediately  responded  by  handing  over  the 
money,  which  was  probably  four  times  what  any  one  used 
to  the  ways  of  the  country  would  have  given.  “A  fool 
and  his  money  are  soon  parted.”  It  is  in  this  way  that 
“ high  art  ” is  patronized  by  travellers  in  the  land  of 
the  East.  The  fellows  went  off  in  great  glee,  probably 
thinking  they  had  caught  “ a green  one.”  I heard  them 
shouting  all  the  way  down  to  Jericho.  However,  I was 
glad  to  have  them  depart,  much  better  pleased  with  a 
chorus  which  now  filled  my  ears,  and  which  was  genuine, 
home-made  music.  It  was  the  croaking  of  the  frogs,  which 
rose  up  from  all  the  plain,  and  in  which  there  was  more 
music  than  in  the  throats  of  all  the  Arabs  from  here  to 
Mount  Sinai. 

"While  this  was  going  on,  the  muleteers  had  been  sit- 
ting round  their  camp  fires,  smoking  their  pipes.  At 
length  the  fires  burned  low,  and  they  dropped  off  to 
slumber,  while  we  lay  down  in  our  tent,  with  the  flood  of 
moonlight  pouring  over  us,  and  the  sound  of  rushing 
waters  to  lull  us  to  rest. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


GOING  IJP  TO  JERUSALEM. 

It  was  our  last  night  in  tents  before  reaching  J erusa- 
lem,  and  we  were  to  mount  but  for  one  more  ride.  We 
could  not  miss  such  an  opportunity  to  see  the  sun  rise 
over  the  mountains  of  Moab,  and  were  up  long  before 
daybreak,  watching  the  approach  of  the  dawn.  The  wea- 
ther, which  had  been  propitious  through  all  our  journey- 
ing on  the  desert,  favored  us  to  the  end.  The  sun  came 
up  without  a cloud,  and  shone  down  into  the  plain  of  the 
Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea.  Looking  out  upon  the  land- 
scape in  this  morning  light,  one  could  see  how  it  was  that 
this  natural  basin  once  supported  a large  population,  and 
became  the  seat  of  one  of  the  great  cities  of  the  East.  The 
valley  of  the  Jordan  at  this  point  is  eight  miles  broad — a 
breadth  as  great  as  that  of  the  valley  of  the  Nile  above 
Cairo  ; and  here  on  its  western  border  rose  a city  of  such 
splendor  that  after  the  Roman  conquest  Antony  did  not 
think  it  an  unworthy  gift  to  offer  to  Cleopatra,  who  in 
turn  sold  it  to  Herod,  then  governor  of  Judea.  However 
little  claim  Herod  may  have  had  to  the  title  of  “ Great  ” 
(although  Augustus  recognized  him  as  “the  second  man 
in  the  Empire,”  inferior  only  to  himself),  he  had  at  least 
one  Imperial  taste — that  for  architecture,  as  he  showed 
in  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple.  Jericho  furnished  lum 
a Winter  retreat  when  he  fled  from  the  cold  heights  of 
Jerusalem  ; and  here  he  built  a palace,  where  he  could 
take  refuge,  and  find  under  his  palms  the  Summer  warmth 


320 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


and  mildness  that  he  might  have  found  on  the  banks  of 
the  Nile.  All  is  gone  now,  as  much  as  the  walls  of  the 
earlier  Jericho,  which  fell  before  the  rams’  horns  of  the 
priests  in  the  army  of  Joshua.  Nature  only  remains — 
nature  and  history  — for  “ the  past  at  least  is  secure,”  * 
and  here,  as  at  the  Pyramids,  if  not  “forty,”  over  thirty 
“ centuries  look  down  upon  us.”  On  the  crest  of  yonder 
mountains,  we  still  discern  the  figure  of  Moses ; while  in 
the  valley  below,  more  than  a thousand  years  afterward, 
was  heard  “ the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,”  and 
“John  came  preaching  repentance  and  baptism  for  the 
remission  of  sins  ” : and  nearer  still,  the  range  at  whose 
very  foot  we  are  camped,  bears  the  name  of  Quarantana, 
from  the  belief,  once  commonly  accepted,  that  it  was  the 
mountain  of  the  temptation,  where  our  Lord  after  His 
baptism,  and  before  He  entered  on  His  ministry,  spent 
forty  days  of  fasting  in  the  wilderness.  Thus  do  the  Law 
and  the  Gospel  look  across  the  plain  of  the  Jordan,  as  if 
signalling  to  each  other  from  the  tops  of  the  mountains. 

While  we  were  thus  musing  on  the  scene,  the  tents  were 
struck,  and  the  muleteers  brought  us  out-  horses.  Our  last 
ride  was  not  to  be  a solitary  one  : for  there  were  two  or 
three  parties  that  had  come  down  from  Jerusalem,  and 
camped  near  us,  and  we  mounted  together.  Among  them 
was  a company  of  Frenchmen  whom  we  had  met  at 
Mount  Sinai,  and  afterwards  at  Bethlehem,  who  were 
so  intelligent  and  courteous  that  I felt  quite  sure  the 
young  men  must  be  scions  of  some  old  Legitimist  fam- 
ilies, who,  under  the  direction  of  a chaplain  (there  was  a 
priest  in  the  company),  were  strengthening  their  faith  by 
a visit  to  the  Holy  Places  of  the  East.  "We  met  them  fre- 
quently during  the  Holy  Week  in  Jerusalem,  and  were 
confirmed  in  our  impression.  They  were  well  mounted 
and  well  armed,  though  they  did  not  omit  the  precaution 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


321 


of  taking  a guide,  whose  presence  was  a pledge  of  their 
safety,  as  he  was  the  son  of  the  sheikh  of  the  tribe  of 
Bedaween  who  claim  the  wilderness  of  Judea  as  their  own. 
Thus  breaking  camp,  one  after  another  our  several  parties 
went  pricking  across  the  plain  to  the  foot  of  the  hills. 

Before  we  turn  our  horses’  heads  to  begin  the  ascent,  a 
singular  monument  in  the  distance  arrests  our  attention. 
As  it  lies  in  the  direction  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  is  glaring 
white — it  shines  like  crystal  in  the  morning  sun— we  might 
fancy  it  to  be  Lot’s  wife  turned  into  a pillar  of  salt.  But 
no,  it  looks  more  like  a tomb,  and  indeed  a tomb  it  is — a 
shrine  which  is  held  in  great  reverence  by  the  Moslems,  as 
it  well  may  be,  considering  that  it  is  the  tomb  of  no  less  a 
personage  than  Moses  himself ! The  tomb  of  Moses  ? But 
is  it  not  written  that  Moses  died  on  Mount  Nebo,  and  that 
“ no  man  knoweth  of  his  sepulchre  unto  this  day  ” ? Ah 
yes,  so  it  was,  but  so  it  is  no  longer.  That  was  said  in  Old 
Testament  times,  when  the  world  did  not  yet  know  all  the 
miracles  of  faith  and  of  credulity.  As  Sgnarelle  says,  in  the 
play  of  Moliere,  the  Medecin  Malgre  Lui,  to  one  who  tim- 
idly suggests  that  “ the  heart  is  on  the  left  side  of  the  body, 
and  the  liver  on  the  right  ” : “ Yes,  it  was  so  formerly,  but  we 
have  changed  all  that.”  So  with  Moses.  It  is  true  he  died 
on  Mount  Nebo,  and  no  man  knew  of  his  sepulchre,  but  of 
course  Moses  knew  himself;  and  if  not  comfortable  where  he 
was,  or  if  any  religious  purpose  required  it,  could  remove 
at  his  will.  Accordingly  he  rose  out  of  his  sepulchre,  prob- 
ably in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  stole  down  the  moun- 
tain side  and  across  the  plain,  to  put  himself  in  a position 
to  receive  the  homage  of  the  faithful,  the  proof  of  which  is, 
that  at  this  very  moment  I see  his  tomb  on  a hillock 
yonder  ; and  since  the  tomb  of  Moses  is  there,  it  were  a 
wretched  unbeliever  who  should  dare  to  suggest  that  the 
body  of  Moses  is  not  in  it ! Such  is  the  story  of  the 


322 


GOIXG  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


Moslems.  I may  not  have  given  it  precisely,  but  it  was 
something  not  less  ridiculous.  The  Bible  account  was 
well  enough  in  its  day,  but  the  Moslems  have  “ changed 
all  that,”  and  now  they  have  the  body  of  Moses  just  where 
they  want  it  for  their  own  purposes,  and  what  those  pur- 
poses are  is  quite  evident — it  is  to  make  a shrine  that 
should  excite  Moslem  devotion.  They  saw  how  the  pil- 
grimages to  Jerusalem  reanimated  the  spirit  of  Christian 
believers  ; how  it  strengthened  their  faith  and  kindled 
then-  zeal.  As  a counterpoise  to  this  influence,  which 
they  knew  not  how  to  resist,  some  wise  old  Mollahs,  who 
lived  here  six  hundred  years  ago,  hit  upon  the  happy 
expedient  of  setting  up  a shrine  of  their  own,  which 
should  have  equal  attractions  with  that  of  the  Holy  Sep- 
ulchre. For  this  it  was  only  necessary  to  have  the  potent 
name  of  a prophet  as  a spell  to  conjure  by,  and  who  so 
great  as  “My  Lord  Moses,”  whose  name  was  held  in 
reverence  alike  by  Moslems,  Jews,  and  Christians?  To 
make  the  opposition  more  effective,  they  fixed  the  time  of 
pilgrimage  in  the  Holy  "Week,  when  the  Christians  should 
be  thronging  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  ; so  that  at  the  very 
moment  that  they  were  coming  in  at  the  Jaffa  gate  on  one 
side,  the  Moslems  should  be  coming  out  at  St.  Stephen’s 
gate  on  the  other.  We  shall  meet  crowds  of  them  on  our 
way  this  morning. 

Leaving  the  tomb  of  Moses,  we  turn  up  the  mountain 
side.  The  air  of  the  hills  stirs  our  blood,  and  we  quicken 
our  horses’  steps.  But  whoever  comes  up  this  road  should 
not  ride  so  fast  as  not  to  pause  now  and  then,  and  turn 
back  to  take  one  more  look  at  a landscape,  which  he  will 
remember  for  a life-time. 

We  are  now  on  one  of  the  great  roads  of  Palestine, 
which  in  ancient  times,  as  it  led  directly  to  the  heart  of 
the  country,  often  resounded  with  the  tramp  of  armed  men. 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


323 


By  this  passage  entered  many  an  Eastern  invader,  “ coming 
up  like  a lion  from  the  swelling  of  Jordan.”  But  we  are 
just  now  more  interested  in  following  the  track  of  pilgrims 
than  of  conquerors.  By  this  road  the  tribes  went  up  to 
Jerusalem  to  the  Passover.  Not  only  was  it  the  avenue 
of  communication  between  Jerusalem  and  Jericho,  but 
between  the  tribes  on  the  two  sides  of  the  Jordan.  It  was 
the  road  which  would  be  taken  by  those  who  crossed  the 
Jordan  to  come  up  to  the  annual  feasts.  As  we  begin  the 
ascent,  we  recall  the  scenes  two  thousand  years  ago,  when 
the  Jews  thronged  up  these  mountain  steeps,  singing  as 
they  went  the  Songs  of  Degrees  : “ I will  lift  up  mine  eyes 
unto  the  hills,  from  whence  cometh  my  help ” ; “I  was 
glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  into  the  house  of 
the  Lord  : Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem  ; they  shall 
prosper  that  love  thee  : Peace  be  within  thy  walls,  and 
prosperity  within  thy  palaces”;  “They  that  trust  in  the 
Lord  shall  be  as  Mount  Zion,  which  cannot  be  removed, 
but  abideth  forever”;  “Behold  how  good  and  how  pleasant 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dAvell  together  in  unity  ! As  the  dew 
of  Hermon,  and  as  the  dew  that  descended  upon  the  moun- 
tains of  Zion  : for  there  the  Lord  commanded  the  blessing, 
even  life  forevermore.” 

These  festivals,  by  bringing  the  tribes  to  the  capital, 
strengthened  the  national  as  well  as  the  religious  feeling, 
and,  in  a double  sense,  made  them  one  people.  In  those 
days  there  were  none  of  the  resources  of  modern  civilization 
to  bring  the  ends  of  a country  together — no  railroads  cours- 
ing through  the  valleys  and  over  the  mountains,  no  tele- 
graphs to  flash  signals  from  tribe  to  tribe.  The  tribes  were 
as  widely  separated  as  nations  are  now.  Those  on  the  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  Jordan  were  as  far  asunder  as  England 
and  France  are  to-day,  separated  by  the  British  Channel. 
But  at  the  annual  feasts  the  people  came,  not  only  from 


324 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


Judali,  which  was  nigh  to  Jerusalem,  but  from  Simeon  in 
the  South  to  Dan  in  the  North  ; from  the  sea-coasts  of 
Asher  and  Zebulon  and  Naphtali  ; and  from  Reuben,  Gad, 
and  Manasseh,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Jordan.  Hither 
they  flocked  from  every  direction — not  men  alone,  but 
whole  families,  husbands  and  wives,  with  their  little  ones 
— to  share  in  the  general  rejoicing.  Those  who  came  from 
beyond  Jordan,  crossed  the  plain,  and  as  they  began  to 
mount  the  hills,  they  sang  the  psalm  of  David  : “Who  shall 
ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord  ? or  who  shall  stand  in  his 
holy  place  ? ” Thus  was  their  Religion  associated,  not  with 
sadness,  but  with  joy.  The  feasts  were  times  of  national  re- 
joicing, when  Ephraim  did  not  envy  Judah,  nor  Judah  vex 
Ephraim,  but  all  joined  together,  singing  the  anthems  of 
their  common  deliverance.  These  festivals  were  the  great 
events  of  the  year — which  made  the  people  feel  that  they 
had  a country,  that  they  were  children  of  a common  race, 
inheritors  of  a common  faith,  and  sharers  of  a common 

j°y- 

These  ancient  Jewish  festivals  are  no  more  ; though  the 
few  thousand  Jews  in  Jerusalem  still  keep  the  Passover,  yet 
the  Temple  is  gone,  and  there  is  no  splendid  ritual  to  at- 
tract the  pious  Jew,  nor  is  there  a large  population — the 
remnant  of  the  tribes — to  send  a throng  of  pilgrims  to  the 
solemn  feasts.  But  Christian  festivals  have  ta,ken  the  place 
of  the  Jewish  ; to  the  Passover  has  succeeded  the  Holy 
Week,  the  great  season  of  celebration  by  the  Christian 
world,  for  which  pilgrims  are  now  hastening  to  the  Holy 
City.  As  we  press  on,  they  gather  before  us  and  behind 
us,  swelling  the  train.  Numbers  are  on  the  road,  some 
on  horseback  and  some  on  foot.  The  latter  we  pass 
quickly,  while  others  who  are  better  mounted  than  we, 
dash  by  us  at  full  speed.  Here  is  a rider  who  belongs  to 
the  “ awkward  squad,”  as  he  comes  up  with  legs  flapping 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


325 


like  a pair  of  wings,  and  saddle-bags  on  bis  lank  beast, 
looking  like  a country  doctor.  I tbink  be  is  a German 
professor.  Russians  are  bere  in  great  numbers.  Tbe  cos- 
tumes and  tbe  languages  of  tbe  East  mingle  witb  those  of 
tbe  West.  Thus  tbe  pilgrims  move  forward,  a promiscu- 
ous crowd,  yet  all  witb  one  destination — “ going  up  to 
Jerusalem.” 

Half  way  up  tbe  ascent  is  laid  tbe  scene  of  tbe  Par- 
able of  tbe  Good  Samaritan.  Altbougb  Christ  merely  sup- 
posed a case  for  illustration,  yet  tradition  could  not  miss 
such  an  opportunity,  and  accordingly  it  is  accepted  as  a 
•veritable  occurrence,  and  we  have  even  pointed  out  to  us 
tbe  place  of  tbe  inn  to  which  tbe  Good  Samaritan  con- 
veyed the  poor  wayfarer,  and  left  him  to  be  cared  for.  One 
thing  strikes  us  in  this  as  in  other  parables  of  our  Lord — 
tbe  felicity  and  aptness  in  tbe  choice  of  illustrations.  “A 
certain  man  went  down  to  Jericho  and  fell  among  thieves.” 
Why  to  Jericho  rather  than  to  Joppa  ? It  seemed  to  me, 
while  riding  over  it,  as  if  this  were  a road  for  highway- 
men, as  it  is  a lonely  mountain  road,  witb  deep  glens  by 
tbe  wayside  where  robbers  might  lurk,  and  wait  tbe  ap- 
proach of  tbe  unsuspecting  traveller.  Indeed  I fear  if  a 
lonely  wanderer  were  to  go  down  to  Jericho  to-day,  un- 
armed and  unprotected,  be  would  meet  tbe  same  fate. 

But  all  tbe  pilgrims  are  not  going  one  way  : as  some 
are  going  up,  others  are  coming  down.  We  met  great 
numbers  of  Moslems  on  their  way  to  tbe  tomb  of  Moses. 
They  came,  not  in  a long  procession,  but  in  families,  or 
in  little  companies  of  friends,  decked  out  in  their  finery, 
like  Italian  peasants  for  a festa,  and  driving  before  them 
sheep  and  goats  for  sacrifices  and  for  food  during  tbe  three 
days  of  their  festival.  Here  and  there  a booth  served  the 
purpose  of  a wayside  inn,  and  invited  pilgrims  of  all  races 
and  all  creeds.  We  declined  their  alluring  temptations 


t 


326 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


but  made  our  own  repast  on  a rising  ground  by  tlie  road- 
side, where,  with  sheltering  rock  behind  and  a smooth 
sward  in  front,  we  watched  the  picturesque  cavalcade  (for 
some  mounted  on  horses  and  camels  mingled  with  those 
on  foot),  which  went  streaming  down  to  the  valley  of  the 
Jordan. 

But  all  associations  of  ordinary  pilgrims  sink  out  of 
sight  in  the  thought  of  one  solitary  Traveller.  The  su- 
preme interest  of  this  road  from  Jericho  is  that  it  was 
trodden  by  our  blessed  Lord  when  He  came  up  to  Jerusa- 
lem for  the  last  time.  Looking  backward  and  downward, 
we  seem  to  see  a Form  slowly  ascending,  with  weary  foot, 
as  of  one  who  bore  a heavy  burden,  and  on  whom  already 
fell  the  shadow  of  the  cross. 

As  we  advance,  these  associations  thicken  upon  us,  until 
we  come  to  Bethany,  so  full  of  tender  and  sacred  memo- 
ries. Here  we  are,  as  it  were,  in  the  very  home  of  our 
Saviour,  almost  as  much  as  if  we  were  in  Nazareth  or 
Capernaum  : for  Bethany  is  only  two  miles  from  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  house  of  Mary  and  Martha  was  His  frequent 
retreat  from  the  great  city.  We  turned  our  horses  into  a 
lane,  and  rode  through  the  poor  village  to  visit  the  tomb 
of  Lazarus,  which  is  under  ground,  and  to  which  we  de- 
scend by  a stair  in  the  rock.  We  have  come  to  distrust 
monkish  legends  so  much  that  we  are  suspicious  of  any 
which  rest  merely  on  tradition,  unsupported  by  evidence  ; 
yet  the  bare  possibility  that  here  tradition  has  seized  on 
the  right  spot,  is  enough  to  hush  to  silence  the  visitor  who 
’ gropes  into  the  darkness,  and  stands,  it  may  be,  at  the  very 
grave’s  mouth  where  “ Jesus  wept,”  giving  way  to  a burst 
of  emotion  such  as  overwhelms  a mourner  who  bends  over 
the  tomb  which  has  received  the  object  dearest  to  him  on 
earth.  Another  spot  is  pointed  out  as  the  place  where 
stood  the  house  of  Mary  and  Martha.  Both  sites  are 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


327 


merely  traditional.  Nor  does  it  matter.  It  is  enough  that 
they  were  in  Bethany,  of  the  identity  of  which  there  has 
never  been  a question.  Somewhere,  within  a very  short 
compass,  they  must  have  been  ; and  as  we  move  slowly 
along  the  road,  we  can  see  the  Saviour  approaching,  met 
by  a bowed  form  clinging  to  His  knees,  and  hear  a wail  of 
agony  : Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not 


died ! 


And  now  we  rise  to  the  summit,  and  the  Holy  City 
bursts  upon  our  view,  just  as  we  expected  to  see  it — its 
walls  giving  it  the  appearance  of  a fortress,  with  deep  val- 
leys encircling  it  like  a castle  moat,  and  the  hills  girdling 
it  round  like  outer  defences  of  a central  citadel.  To  get 
this  eastern  view  was  one  object  which  we  had  in  making 
our  detour  to  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  J ordan,  instead  of 
entering  Jerusalem  directly  from  Bethlehem.  Dean  Stanley 
— the  writer  who  has  caught  most  perfectly  the  picturesque- 
ness, as  well  as  the  overwhelming  historical  associations,  of 
“ Sinai  and  Palestine  ” — says  “ There  is  one  approach  which 
is  really  grand,  namely,  from  Jericho  and  Bethany.  It  is 
the  approach  by  which  the  army  of  Pompey  advanced — 
the  first  European  army  that  ever  confronted  it — and  it 
is  the  approach  of  the  triumphal  entry  of  the  Gospels. 

1 of  every  one  coming  from 


South,  may  be  summed  up 


in  the  simple  expression  used  by  one  of  the  modern  trav- 
ellers : ‘ I am  strongly  affected,  but  greatly  disappointed.’ 
But  no  human  being  could  be  disappointed  who  first  saw 
Jerusalem  from  the  east.” 

On  the  hill  commanding  this  view,  we  now  stood  over 
against  the  city,  separated  only  by  the  Valley  of  Jehosh- 
apliat — a valley  so  deep  and  frowning  in  its  rocky  sides 
that  in  the  terrified  vision  of  the  Prophet,  it  was  to  be 
the  scene  of  final  judgment.  [“  Multitudes,  multitudes 


328 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


in  tlie  valley  of  decision ! ”]  Mahomet  caught  the  allusion 
and  improved  upon  it.  On  yonder  wall  lies  a long  round 
stone,  the  fragment  of  a column,  projecting  from  the  para- 
pet like  a piece  of  artillery.  On  the  day  of  final  award, 
says  the  Koran,  from  that  stone  of  judgment  a line  no 
bigger  than  a hair  will  be  stretched,  over  which  will  pass 
the  souls  of  the  faithful,  while  unbelievers  will  be  precipi- 
tated into  the  valley  below,  which  is  a symbol  of  the 
eternal  abyss. 

But  we  give  only  a glance  downward,  as  our  gaze 
becomes  fixed  on  the  city  itself  which  has  come  so  near. 
There  is  Jerusalem,  beautiful  for  situation,  the  joy  of  the 
whole  earth,  the  city  of  the  great  King  ! At  the  southeast 
corner  within  the  walls,  stood  the  Temple  of  Solomon  (we 
are  directly  opposite  the  Beautiful  Gate),  and  now  stands 
the  Mosque  of  Omar- ; and  as  we  are  at  an  elevation  of 
nearly  two  hundred  feet  above  it,  we  look  down  into  the 
temple  area. 

Here,  as  before,  one  association  overpowers  all  others — 
that  of  the  Great  Master,  whose  sacred  presence  has  made 
all  this  holy  ground.  On  our  right  is  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
to  which  He  so  often  withdrew  to  meditate  and  pray  ; and 
as  we  see  its  position  relative  to  Jerusalem,  we  can  see 
why  it  may  have  been  chosen  as  His  place  of  retire- 
ment. It  was  close  at  hand,  and  yet  separated  by  a deep 
valley,  which  protected  it  from  intruders,  as  well  as  from 
the  noise  and  tumult  of  the  city.  It  was  at  once  near 
and  far — a place  to  be  reached  by  a short  walk,  and  yet  as 
hushed  and  still  as  the  mountain  top  to  which  He  so  often 
retired  to  pray. 

Thus  the  most  tender  and  sacred  associations  connected 
with  the  person  of  our  Lord,  may  be  said  to  cluster  on  the 
eastern  side  of  Jerusalem.  Over  this  road  from  the  east, 
He  passed  on  His  way  “ going  up  to  Jerusalem  ” to  die  ; 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


329 


and  here  when  all  was  over,  when  death  was  past,  He  came 
to  take  farewell  of  His  disciples.  Of  course  legend  is  busy 
fixing  on  this  or  the  other  spot  as  the  scene  of  the  ascen- 
sion. In  one  place  they  show  the  print  of  our  Saviour’s 
foot  as  He  pressed  the  earth  for  the  last  time.  But  that  is 
of  little  moment.  This  only  we  know,  that  it  was  from 
Bethany ; and  though  we  cannot  fix  the  precise  spot — 
though  we  cannot  point  to  the  print  of  His  foot  in  a rock — 
yet  as  it  was  from  one  or  other  of  these  heights,  all  of 
which  are  near,  it  must  have  been  within  the  sweep  of 
the  eye.  “And  he  led  them  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany  ; 
and  he  lifted  up  his  hands  and  blessed  them.  And  it  came 
to  pass,  while  he  blessed  them,  he  was  parted  from  them, 
and  carried  up  into  heaven.”  Was  there  ever  a more 
simple  announcement  of  a great  event  ? In  so  few  words 
is  depicted  that  wondrous  scene.  With  such  simplicity 
throughout  is  told  the  story  of  our  Saviour’s  life  on  earth. 
So  brief  a span  is  it  from  the  beginning  to  the  end — from 
the  hill  of  Bethlehem  to  the  hill  of  Bethany.  If,  as  some 
pretend,  the  Gospel  be  all  a myth,  a poetic  fancy,  surely 
never  was  any  poet’s  dream  so  perfect  and  complete — 
beginning  with  the  song  of  angels,  and  ending  with  the 
flight  to  heaven ! And  what  a harmony  in  all  that  life  and 
death  and  rising  again  ! Over  his  cradle  the  angels  sang, 
Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men ! And  the  last  sight  of 
him  was  in  the  act  of  blessing  the  disciples  he  left  behind. 
So  he  came  and  so  he  went  away  : with  hands  stretched  out 
in  benediction,  and  words  of  blessing  descending  from  the 
depths  of  air,  till  “ a cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight.” 
No  wonder  that  his  disciples  caught  inspiration  from  that 
upward  flight,  “ and  returned  to  Jerusalem  with  great  joy, 
and  were  continually  in  the  temple  blessing  God.” 

With  such  thoughts  we  advance  towards  the  city, 
descending  the  slope  along  which  Christ  made  his  tri- 


330 


GOING  UP  TO  JERUSALEM. 


umplial  entry,  when  the  multitude  thronged  his  steps,  and 
cast  palm  branches  in  the  way,  and  shouted  Hosannas. 
"We  heard  no  such  glad  salutations,  but  sounds  quite  other 
than  those  which  welcomed  the  Prince  of  Peace  : for  at 
that  moment  cannon  were  firing  at  St.  Stephen’s  gate, 
out  of  which  wrns  streaming  a motley  procession,  with 
waving  banners,  beginning  then  march  over  the  road  by 
which  we  had  come,  to  the  Valley  of  the  Jordan  and  the 
Tomb  of  Moses ! It  was  a singular  coincidence  that 
Moslem  pilgrims  should  be  pouring  out  of  Jerusalem  just 
as  Christian  pilgrims  were  pouring  in.  With  such  a 
tumult  before  our  eyes,  and  such  a sound  in  our  ears, 
we  descended  the  slope  and  crossed  the  brook  Kedron  ; 
and  when  we  had  climbed  the  opposite  bank,  and  came 
under  the  old  walls,  and  passed  through  the  ancient  portal, 
“ our  feet  stood  within  thy  gates,  O Jerusalem.” 


“Two  as  Interesting  and  valuable  books  of  travel  as  have 
been  published  in  this  country.”  New  York  Express. 

Dr.  Field’s  Travels  Round  the  World. 


i. 

FROM  THE  LAKES  OF  KILLARNEY  TO  THE 
GOLDEN  HORN. 

II. 

FROM  EGYPT  TO  JAPAN. 

By  HENRY  M.  FIELD,  D.D.,  Editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Evangel!** 
Each  1 vol.  12mo.  Cloth,  gilt  top,  uniform  in  style,  $2. 

CRITICAL  NOTICES. 

By  George  Ripley,  LL.D.,  in  the  New  York  Tribune. 

Few  recent  travellers  combine  so  many  qualities  that  are  adapted  to  command  the 
Interest  and  sympathy  of  the  public.  While  he  indulges,  to  its  fullest  extent,  the  charac- 
teristic American  curiosity  with  regard  to  foreign  lands,  insisting  on  seeing  every  object 
ctf  interest  with  his  own  eyes,  shrinking  from  no  peril  or  difficulty  in  pursuit  of  infor- 
mation— climbing  mountains,  descending  mines,  exploring  pyramids,  with  no  sense  of 
Batiety  or  weariness,  he  has  also  made  a faithful  study  of  the  highest  authorities  on 
the  different  subjects  of  his  narrative,  thus  giving  solidity  and  depth  to  his  descriptions, 
without  sacrificing  their  facility  or  grace. 

From  the  New  York  Observer. 

The  present  volume  comprises  by  far  the  most  novel,  romantic,  and  interesting  part 
of  the  Journey  [Round  the  World],  and  the  story  of  it  is  told  and  the  scenes  are  painted 
by  the  hand  of  a master  of  the  pen.  Dr.  Field  is  a veteran  traveller;  he  knows  well 
what  to  see,  and  (which  is  still  more  impoitant  to  the  reader)  he  knows  well  what  to 
describe  and  how  to  do  it. 

By  Chas.  Dudley  Warner,  in  the  Hartford  Courant. 

It  is  thoroughly  entertaining;  the  reader’s  interest  is  never  allowed  to  flag  ; the 
author  carries  us  forward  from  land  to  land  with  uncommon  vivacity,  enlivens  the  way 
with  a good  humor,  a careful  observation,  and  treats  all  peoples  with  a refreshing  liberality. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs. 

It  is  indeed  a charming  book — full  of  fresh  information,  picturesque  description,  and 
thoughtful  studies  of  men,  countries,  and  civilizations. 

From  Prof.  Roswell  D.  Hitchcock,  D.D. 

In  this  second  volume,  Dr.  Field,  I think,  has  surpassed  himself  in  the  first,  and 
this  is  saying  a good  deal.  In  both  volumes  the  editorial  instinct  and  habit  are  conspic- 
uous. Dr.  Prime  has  said  that  an  editor  should  have  six  senses,  the  sixth  being 
“a  sense  of  the  interestitig .”  Dr.  Field  has  this  to  perfection.  * * * 

From  the  New  York  Herald. 

It  would  be  impossible  by  extracts  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  variety, 
abundance,  or  picturesque  freshness  of  these  sketches  of  travel,  without  copying  a gieat 
part  of  the  book. 

Rev.  Wm.  M.  Taylor,  D.D.,  In  the  Christian  at  Work. 

Dr.  Field  has  an  eye,  if  we  may  use  a photographic  illustration,  with  a great  deal  ol 
wflodion  in  it,  so  that  he  sees  very  clearly.  He  knows  also  how  to  describe  just  those 
things  in  the  different  places  visited  by  him  which  an  intelligent  man  wants  to  know 
about. 


The  above  books  for  sale  by  all  booksellers , or  will  be  sent,  post  or  express 
tkarges paid,  upon  receipt  of  the  price  by  the  publishers. 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS, 

743  amd  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


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